Ghost of Me
by Phantom452
Summary: The Collectors are abducting colonists and its up to Shepard and her crew to stop them. But how can the Savior of the Citadel fight for a future for the galaxy, when she herself is bound to the past...and its secrets? Slight A/U
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Don't look over your shoulder  
'Cause that's just the ghost of me  
You're seeing in your dreams  
Wait, there's no rhyme or reason  
Sometimes there's no meaning  
In the visions when you're sleeping  
Don't wake up and believe them  
You're looking at the ghost of me._

_Daughtry – Ghost of Me_

**Location: Serpent Nebula/Widow System/Citadel - Presidium Commons**

**2183 CE – One week after the Battle of the Citadel**

The soft, blue glow of the computer console flickered briefly, illuminating the darkened office and exposing the stout figure before it. A raspy noise filtered through the air as the figure, a volus, breathed in and out of his protective suit as he typed a few passkeys onto his machine with a slight nervous twitch.

The past few days had been chaotic since the once great Spectre Saren Arterius had failed in his attempt to overtake the Citadel – a plot that was foiled by the now, infamous Commander Jane Shepard. Pieces of buildings and starship frigates littered the station's grounds making it clear, the reality of the epic battle that had occurred between the Alliance ships and Sovereign. Fire and smoke were now a part of the landscape, causing distress for the residents of the Citadel, and constant clean-up from the Cidatel Security Services. Not to mention the constant riots and uprisings from the local thugs and gangs – the main reason for the volus' nervous twitch; one could start at any moment at any location. Safety was now a high commodity for the inhabitants and C-Sec was having a challenging time maintaining control as they sought to reconstruct the Citadel. Thankfully for the Citadel Security, the presence of the System Alliance helped to maintain some measure of peace throughout the large station.

The volus continued to type away at his computer console knowing that he could not be late in communicating with his employer via the extranet – on a secure channel no doubt. He was eager to be of service at this time, knowing that a well of valuable information could be wrought from the chaos that was occurring just beyond his office doors.

Rumors of the Spectre Saren being a puppet for an even greater enemy had been spreading for months now, but it seemed, despite the Council's efforts, that this battle had confirmed it. Even Commander Shepard had voiced that Saren was being controlled, and within the year learned that beings called the Reapers - an unknown enemy with malicious intent toward all races and species – was behind Saren's betrayal. But of course, the volus' employer had already suspected the vitality of this claim; he had even helped the great Commander on her quest to stop Saren, and so, news of this must be spread, or so the volus believed. These things called the Reapers threatened their very livelihood, and he hoped that this expected call would ensure this very news to be spread so that all could be alerted and prepared on the oncoming threat.

"Barla Von." A strong, computerized voice echoed in the dark office, startling the volus from his thoughts.

"Shadow Broker!" Barla Von wheezed out, ecstatic at the contact from his employer. It was true that Barla Von worked as a bank manager, but it was not his main occupation. Money was one of two trades that he had mastered in his lifetime, but his greatest skill resided in the gathering and maintaining of information; a commodity that would forever be valuable in the galactic world. Barla Von believed that he was skillful in this art, but knew that the Shadow Broker was the true master - an unknown being that traded and crafted in information for motives that had not always agreed with Barla Von, but he had hoped that would change with the knowledge of the Reapers.

"It has come to my attention that other players have entered the game. I must protect my sources and methods." The Shadow Broker continued to speak, piquing Barla Von's attention. What other players was the Broker referring to? What about the Reapers?

"Other players?" The volus could not help but ask, wondering what the Shadow Broker was planning. Had someone infiltrated their system?

"Tela Vasir is currently on the Citadel overseeing the safety of the Council. Inform her that her services are required once more." The Shadow Broker ignored Barla Von's inquiry – a slight that was unhappily noticed by the volus. "I will send her the information she will require through our usual methods."

"Yes – a hiss – sir." Barla Von replied, wondering what plot involved the asari Spectre and why had he not mentioned the Reaper threat. He did not have further time to wonder or inquire as his employer soon ended the communication leaving him gazing at the blue light of his console as he processed his employer's departing words.

"I expect the completion of this task within the next solar day. Shadow Broker out." Even with his own reservations, the volus would complete his task, for Barla Von knew all too well of the stories of those that defied the Shadow Broker, and he, was not going to be one of them.

**Location: Serpent Nebula/Widow System/Citadel - Presidium Embassies**

**Two weeks after the Battle of the Citadel**

"Geth? You're sending me after Geth?" Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard's voice held a tone that was a mixture between disbelief and surprise. After all that had occurred in the past year with Saren and the Reaper Sovereign, the Citadel Council was sending Shepard after _Geth_! The idea was preposterous! "The Reapers are coming! We need to be preparing ourselves!" Shepard flexed her right fist to contain her frustration. Did the Council not see the severity of the threat? Did they still doubt her after everything that had happened?

"Believe me, I know, Shepard." The older man before her sighed out as he rubbed his temple, wondering why he doubted that Jane would not react this way. Hell, he did when he found out what mission they were sending her off to do. God, how he hated politics.

"Anderson! You have to make them see! I mean, how can they _not_? The proof is right out the _bloody_ window!" The Commander jerked her hand toward said window and at the scattered debris outside of the embassy office. "I thought they understood? The Geth were just pawns. What else do they need?" She bit back a few choice words, recognizing the exasperation on her former Captain's face, and took a deep breath instead when she noticed him raising an curious eyebrow at her. She really needed to control her temper; her accent slipped out easily. Too easily.

She folded her arms as her temperament sobered, and stared out the window, reflecting on the past year and before – on the people she had lost. Jenkins on Eden Prime and Ashley on Virmire were the most recent ones that came to mind. The unit she lost on Akuze and then her friends during the Skyllian Blitz on Elysium were always there too. And of course, those that she had lost before she joined the Alliance – their sacrifice would forever be burned in her heart and mind, and across her right shoulder and forearm. She unconsciously flexed her fist again, recalling the heat of the fire that had taken her life and friends away. She took in another deep breath, trying to stay focus and ignore the ache in her heart. What else did she have to sacrifice to make people see the lingering threats that loomed above them all?

"Shepard." David Anderson's voice was always soft, but firm as he studied and spoke to his former XO. He had noticed the sudden shift in her mood and could not help but see how the events plagued and tore on her; she still had that tail of chewing her bottom lip whenever she was thinking hard or stressed. He doubted she even noticed that she was doing it right now.

His brown eyes drifted lightly over her profile, trying to catch her attention. She still had that hard look about her and her eyes still burned with such a confident and determined passion, but, it seemed, a heavier weight was now burdening her shoulders. What could he do to help levitate her cross? He would always remain as her advocate, even more so, now that he was the first human Councilor on the Citadel Council – a privilege that was heavily weighted on Shepard's recommendation just two weeks ago, but it seemed not even that was enough. His main concern now was that she would burn herself out with all the pressure and responsibility that she now held.

"Shepard," Anderson finally caught her eyes, "Right now, the Council's main focus is to restore order and get this mess controlled and cleaned. You know how it is: people need the reassurance of safety."

"I know." She whispered. She did know, truly she did. She just wished that more action and preparation was being taken against the Reapers. This battle had only delayed their coming, not end it.

"It's just a routine reconnaissance mission; you'll be in and out in weeks and then we can begin talking to the Council and the Alliance about the Reapers. Ease their minds first and they'll be more likely to listen to us." Anderson reasoned. He noticed that Jane seemed more understanding, and so, continued. "Three ships have disappeared within the past few weeks and it's getting the Council worried that the Geth may be involved – hell, the request came in from a fellow Spectre – that alone should warrant your attention."

"Yeah, I got it. They're scared the Geth are plotting something." Shepard finally turned her attention back to the human Councilor.

"Then you know what to do, Shepard." Anderson easily donned the smile that was only reserved for the first Human Spectre. Since the moment they met, Anderson knew she had a great destiny about her and had taken a fatherly presence in her life, for which, they would forever be grateful for. Shepard returned the smile with one of her own and a firm nod.

"Aye, Aye, sir."

**Location: Unknown**

It was ironic; really, this situation Miranda Lawson had discovered herself imbedded in. Of all people, she had now found herself staring at the one person she truly despised and desperately avoided, save for another, as her next assignment. Commander Jane Shepard's image was flashing throughout multiple hologram-videos in the vast and darkened office of her superior and all Miranda could think about was how much she wanted to wring the woman's neck. The raven head took in a silent breath, lest she lose this assignment due to her emotions. She would control herself, just as she had many times before, despite her own personal qualms. She must and she would. The past was just that: the past. She turned her head away from the monitors, knowing that the figure sitting behind her was expecting her assessment on Shepard and the events that had happened two weeks ago.

The Illusive Man – the core figure and foundation of the organization that had granted her amnesty as well as opportunity – was immaculately dressed in one of his finest suits as he studied her reaction to the vids through a puff of cigarette smoke. It was a rare occurrence for him to meet with an operative personally, even one of her high position within the Cerberus organization, which informed Miranda one thing: this mission held no room for failure. If humanity was to survive, they needed Shepard on their side.

Her confident, steel blue eyes glanced once more over the multiple and various images and events that were involved with Jane Shepard. Despite her own reservations with the Savior of the Citadel, Miranda knew that the Commander had given humanity a stronger foothold in the galactic scene. There was no doubt about that. What the Commander had to offer, if her successful mission rates and apparent persuading personality was of any indication, seemed to be what Cerberus needed…what Humanity needed. Who knew that the loudmouth, scrawny little redhead she once knew would not only be the first human Spectre, but be the only being capable of stopping the Reapers? Miranda was skeptic when it came to Shepard, but she trusted the Illusive Man's judgment.

Miranda turned her face toward her employer, allowing the darken room to hide her perfect features for a moment. "Shepard did everything right, more than what we could've hoped for," she turned fully to face the Illusive Man, "saving the Citadel, even saving the Council. Humanity has the trust of the entire galaxy." She rested a hand on her hip as her eyes drifted over to a newsfeed of the wreckage on the Citadel, and her mind immediately thought of the last report they had received about Shepard, "And still, it's not enough." Her Australian accent was lightly lined with disbelief and annoyance.

"Our sacrifices have earned the Council's gratitude, but Shepard remains our best hope." The Illusive Man spoke, tapping his cigarette on the nearby ashtray. His glowing, blue eyes continued to study Miranda as if determining something, what, she had yet to deduce. An assistant arrived then, handing a datapad to the Illusive Man. Miranda ignored the intrusion, focusing more on the conversation and its implications.

The idea that Shepard was their best hope, did not sit well with Miranda, but she kept those sentiments back as she began walking toward her employer and through some holo-vids. Instead, she decided to voice her more viable annoyance: the Council. "But they're sending her to fight Geth! _Geth!_"She stood before him, confident and erect. "We both know they're not the real threat. The Reapers are still out there."

The Illusive Man glanced up from the datapad, took another inhale of his cigarette before responding. "And it's up to us to stop them." He exhaled the smoke, before dismissing the assistant with a tilt of his head.

"The Council will never trust Cerberus. They'll never accept our help, even after everything humanity has accomplished." She continued to voice her more accepting thoughts as she turned to glance once more at an image of Shepard. Oh how the next words, though truthful, already wanted to make her gag. "But Shepard, they'll follow her. She's a hero, a _bloody_ icon." She turned back to her employer, noting the brief raise of his eyebrow. Perhaps she allowed her irritation toward Shepard sneak out with that last statement. She quickly sought to amend her tone. "But she's just one woman," she stated, "If we lose Shepard, humanity might well follow." She declared as she watched his eyebrow lower as he crushed his cigarette into his ashtray.

"Then see to it that we _don't_ lose her."

**Location: Omega Nebula/Amada System/SSV Normandy SR-1**

**One month after the Battle of the Citadel**

Shepard stretched her arms above her as she sat at her desk, trying to finish her latest report to Anderson and Admiral Hackett. She let out a heavy sigh as she stared at the console before her. There was not much to report about. The area had been quiet since they had arrived; no sign of Geth at all, of anything really. It unnerved her, to be honest, when they discovered nothing in the system. Not even signs of the supposed missing ships. Her gut told her something was wrong, but she couldn't pinpoint what the problem was. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to figure out what to send to her superiors and unknowingly bit the bottom of her lip as she thought. Her left hand rubbed her right forearm, another absentminded habit she had formed since the day she received the burnt scars that marred her skin. Her hand paused as her mind drifted off to the past, an occurrence, she found, was happening quite frequently as of late. She blamed the information she received a few days ago. Another dead end and 5000 credits poorer, Shepard wondered if she would ever get another lead on the woman she was searching for.

_Find me._

Shepard closed her eyes as her memory replayed that voice; the voice that always haunted and blessed her dreams. She opened her green eyes, and stood from her chair, stretching her body once more before heading over to her dresser as a sudden wave of nostalgia and sadness crept into the forefront of her thoughts. She opened the steel container, where she kept a small metal box of her personal belongings. Shepard unlocked the small box and pocketed out a picture frame; the only solid reminder that her past did exist.

She smiled warmly at the three teenaged girls that were in the photo – of happier and simpler times. How did things end up this way? She knew that no answer would be forthcoming, despite always asking herself that question. Shepard didn't have any more time to ponder on her past before the Normandy's red alarms blared across the ship, followed by a massive lurch as the ship's port side was blown apart.

Shepard was flown against her cabin's wall as the ship's automated virtual intelligence system began sounding through the general communication system. "Read Alert! Hull Breach! Read Alert! Hull Breach!" Shepard cursed at the news and quickly ran out of the room to don her armor, passing by fellow Alliance officers who were rushing to maintain the fires that had erupted across the ship.

It didn't take long for Shepard to equip herself with her armor – she was trained to move fast and quick as an N7 operative. She quickly tapped into her personal communication channel to hail her pilot. "Joker!" She called out through her comm systems, hoping to reach the Flight Lieutenant. "Report!" A static was heard on the line, before Joker's voice could be heard.

"Kinetic barriers down! Multiple hull breaches! Weapons offline!" A moment of static garbled the line, before Shepard heard Joker yell once more, "—body get that fire out!" The usual witty pilot sounded frantic as he desperately tried to maneuver his way from whatever enemy was firing at them. Was it the Geth? Shepard thought as she grabbed her helmet and a nearby fire extinguisher. Shepard wasn't so sure, but she was sure she didn't remember the Geth having the capability of blasting through the Normandy's barriers so easily.

Shepard shot a burst of the extinguisher on a rampant electrical surge near the gun battery before the ship reeled once more. Shepard groaned in pain as she and the other crew was tossed against the ship's hull and equipment once more. She rolled to her feet before rushing to help one of her ensigns to their feet. "Get as many as you can to the escape pods!" She ordered over another explosion of more equipment.

"Aye, aye!" The soldier replied and quickly did as he was told.

Shepard didn't spare him another glance as she ran over to a computer console and punched in a few commands. The Normandy VI soon broadcasted the Commander's order over the ship's communication system. "All hands abandon ship! This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship! This is not a drill."

Satisfied that her crew would be getting to safety, Shepard quickly sent out a distress beacon and message to the Alliance. "This is Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard of the SSV Normandy. We are under attack from an unknown assailant and require immediate assistance. I've ordered all crew to abandon ship. I'm punching in our coordinates." Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she sent the beacon just before said keyboard sparked and burst into flames. Shepard hissed out as she shielded her face from the heat. She inwardly thanked a higher power for allowing her to send the beacon before she was unable. Quickly, she snapped her N7 breather helmet on.

"Shepard!" A familiar male voice called out to her. Shepard turned to see Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko rushing toward her.

"Distress beacon has been launched." Her eyes did a quick scan for injury on her Lieutenant and finding none, she was about to order him to the escape pods, when he spoke.

"Will the Alliance get here in time?" He asked as he secured his own helmet with lucky timing as the ship bucked once more, causing him to stumble into the Commander. She gripped him securely before he could fall and helped him to his feet.

"The Alliance won't abandon us. We just need to hold on!" She told him before attacking another fire with her extinguisher. "Get everyone onto the escape pods!" She added, but noted that he had grabbed an extinguisher of his own to help combat the flames.

"Joker is still in the cockpit! He won't abandon ship." He then defiantly glared over to her. "And I'm not leaving either."

Shepard wanted to smack Kaiden for being so negligent. He could be endearing at times, but right now, he really needed to be her Lieutenant and not her friend. She turned toward him and gripped his forearm. "I need you to get the crew to the evac shuttles!" She ordered as she tossed the seemingly useless fire extinguisher aside. "I'll get Joker." Another explosion rattled the ship, causing Shepard to grab an above railing to keep steady. She could sense Kaiden had yet to follow through on her order.

"Commander…" He hesitated. Yup. She ought to have smacked him.

"Kaiden!" She turned to fully look him in the eyes. "Go. Now." She ordered with the tone that held no room for negotiation or compromise. He held her eyes for a brief moment, and she knew he was debating on disobeying her, and so, she was ever grateful when he didn't.

"Aye, Aye." He whispered to her before running off to save the remaining crew.

Shepard watched Kaiden's retreating form before turning to face toward the stairs that would lead her to the upper deck, where Joker was located. Once this was over, she was going to give him and Kaiden a piece of her mind about following her orders, followed by a smack to the back of their heads. Rushing toward the right stairs, Shepard bounded upward, before another large shake struck her against the door that led to the upper deck. She gritted her teeth as she pushed herself away from the wall and slammed her fist on the door lock, effectively opening the door.

A whoosh of air slammed itself against her suit, making her stumble forward before she activated her magnetic boots; the mass effect fields were out, which meant gravity was lost. Shepard's eyes glanced upward and widened in surprise as she spotted the large hole in the upper deck of the Normandy. What the hell did this? Her eyes darted over to the cockpit, noting Joker's form beyond the barrier he had placed up. How many lives were lost? She wondered as she breathed through her suit's built-in oxygen system and began to maneuver through floating debris. How many were saved? She inched closer to the cockpit, pushing aside a floating chair. Whoever did this was going to pay dearly for harming her family.

Shepard finally reached the barrier and easily entered through it. Gravity returned to her as soon as she stepped through, making her stumble briefly from the sudden environment change. She dislodged her mag boots and rushed to Joker's side as he broadcasted through all communication channels.

"Mayday mayday. This is SSV Normandy. We've suffered heavy damage from an unknown enemy!" He yelled as his fingers flew across his flight controls, trying to keep the Normandy afloat. "Come on, baby, hold it together, just for me, hold it together." He pled just as Shepard appeared beside him.

"Joker! Come on! We have to get out of here!" She motioned to grab his arm, but his yelling caused her to briefly pause; he had never yelled at her before. And just like that, he just made it to the top of her smacking list today, right before Alenko.

"No! I can still save her! I won't abandon her!" He shouted out defiantly. Shepard sighed out and gripped his arm and leaned down to speak to him.

"Joker! The Normandy's lost. Going down with the ship won't change that." She told him, voice firm, but gentle. She knew how much he adored this ship, just as she had come to adore it and its crew.

Joker was silent for a moment, before he nodded his head in reluctance. "Yeah okay, help me up." She did just that and the two began to head toward the last evacuation pod, but not before noticing a flicker on one of the monitors. _Bloody hell._

"They're coming around for another attack!" Joker voiced the reason for her pause and the two quickened their pace toward the escape pod that was closest to the cockpit. One, more hurried than the other, given Joker's brittle bone disease. "Ow! Watch the arm!" Joker seethed out, briefly forgetting the reason for Shepard's hurried state. Shepard ignored his complaints as they reached the panel for the escape pod. She slammed her fist on the panel, effectively opening it, and gingerly helped Joker inside the seat – a silent apology for being rough on him.

It was then, that Shepard heard an incoming shrilling sound. Glancing up and through the exposed hull, Shepard's eyes broadened as she watched a yellow beam slice itself through her ship. _Oh God._ She realized too late what had happened as she was launched off her feet and away from Joker and the escape pod. She briefly heard Joker calling out her name as her primary focus was to get her friend to safety. Floating off, she did a somersault in the air, allowing her left hand to smash itself against the escape pod's controls, successfully allowing it to launch away from the Normandy.

Shepard grinned as she heard the pod stream away from the Normandy. Joker was safe. She should be all right, as long as her hardsuit remained intact. She had at least twenty-four hours of air supply – that should be enough for someone to find her floating along. Her thoughts were interrupted when another series of explosions propelled her away from the ship entirely and into the dark void of space. She twirled a bit before feeling her back slam itself roughly against metal plating. _Ow. Damn that hurt._

She weaved a few more times before she was able to stabilize herself. Looking back at what once was the Normandy; Shepard saw its final moment as the unknown ship blasted it into oblivion. She really was going to have fun getting revenge. She breathed in, controlling her temper, but noticed something strange with her air intake. She glanced down at her right wrist, where her HUD and suit's readings were located. The stats were decreasing…rapidly.

Her breathing became harsher as her body registered the oncoming chill in her suit and the dwindling amount of oxygen. Dread and fear hit her then as she realized that that metal plating must have caused a suit rupture near her oxygen supply. And to make matters worse, she felt herself drifting downward faster than she should. Alchera! The planet they were near…she was caught in its gravitational pull. Her body plunged, and reflexively, she held onto her helmet as her air supply was draining out and her body was heating up from the pull. _No! After everything that's happened, I can't die like this!_ Images and voices quickly flashed through her mind, but in her frantic state, she could barely register them all as they overlapped and overrode her senses.

Shepard gasped and struggled fruitlessly to gulp in air, but her suit was now exhausted of proper air supply. She kicked and twirled as her suit began to sizzle from the increasing heat; the foreboding thought of being cooked alive flashing in her mind. The cacophony of voices and images in her head were beginning to still, making her frantic in her last moments as she realized her fate. _Not yet…not yet…give me another chance…I still…need…to…find…_ Her mind stilled and her body relaxed as she slowly drifted into unconsciousness. It didn't take long before the Commander's eyes finally closed and one last voice forcefully pierced the silent nothingness of her quieting mind.

_Find me. _

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**This is my first attempt at fanfiction. After reading many fanfics about the Mass Effect universe, especially that of Shepard/Miranda pairings - which are my favs - I felt inspired to try my hand at the craft. To try to keep it original, but true to the canon, I've made this story slightly A/U and tried to focus mostly on Shepard and Miranda interactions. I have not decided if this will become a complete novelization of Mass Effect 2, but there will be critical missions that I hope to incorporate in order to expound and demonstrate the bond between Shepard and Miranda. **

**I welcome comments and constructive criticism and would be eternally grateful for those that can help me better my writing - in all aspects, but especially in grammar and delivery. On that note, I would also appreciate any corrections in the Mass Effect lore as well (unless I am purposely altering it just a tad bit for my story =p) as I know I am not well versed as I wish I was. **

**For those that wish to know or care, my female Shepard's image resembles that of the iconic/default Shepard: Red hair and green eyes. Her voice is softer and smoother than what Jennifer Hale has portrayed - for the sole reason that I cannot stand it (I don't know why, don't hate me for it), and that it actually plays a vital role in my plotline. She grew up on Earth and due to reasons that will later be explained and revealed in the story, she will have both survived the thresher maw on Akuze and engaged herself in the Skyllian Blitz on Elysium (timeline will differ from Mass Effect...sorry...don't kill me for it...but there's a purpose, I promise). She holds a mixture of paragon and renegade, but will mostly have a paragon dominated personality. She holds a wide range of skills and abilities, since I believe that being trained not only as a marine, but that of an N7 operative and Spectre, should give her a very talented resume that should not be bound to specific weaponry or biotic/tech skills or even that of martial arts. **

**Also, (I promise I'll stop talking soon) just for a quick Mass Effect 1 summary: Shepard sacrificed Ashley on Virmire, Wrex was appeased, and the Council was saved, followed by Anderson becoming a member of the Council. And of course, the most important info: Shepard romanced...**

**This will become an a Shepard/Miranda fic, so it doesn't matter who she romanced before, right? Right. **


	2. Chapter 1-Corps of Corpses

**Chapter 1 – Corps of Corpses**

_No more ghosts or memories to hold me back_

_A fresh start is all I have ever asked_

_I watch my body slowly turn from blue to black_

_And on, and on, and on_

_Sometimes it hurts the most to be who you are_

_You can change your mind; you can't change your heart_

_To find the end you got to know where to start_

_And on, and on, and on  
_

_You said she is so evil, but_

_She looks like heaven to me_

_I'd follow her to hell and back again_

_I swear I'd sign my name in blood_

_It dripped down from my veins_

_I swore I'd never tell_

_Hawthorne Heights – Corps of Corpses_

**Location: Lazarus Research Station**

**2185 CE **

It was a disconcerting feeling; a sensation between floating and falling and everything in between. It was difficult to process where she was; she simply existed in this pocket of space. An endless sea of blackness blanketed her surroundings and she wondered how long she had been in this void. Time seemed to have no meaning. Thought was hard to come by. There was only darkness.

However, lately, her head was beginning to throb. She was glad that she _felt_ something in this place. It was difficult to miss, as it appeared quite unexpectedly and tried to move, but some pressure prevented her. She felt sluggish, numb, and cold. Why was it so cold? Why was it so dark? Where was she?

She felt a prick in her mind and her headache immediately escalated. Suddenly, flashes of thoughts and memories exploded in her mind. Images of people and places were hammering against her from every direction, but she was unable to register anything in the violent attack. The mental onslaught was unbearable, causing her to want to curl herself into a ball, but unable; no reprieve came for her. She wanted to scream and shout, but that same pressure would not allow her to flee. It felt like an eternity until she was able to decipher some of the most recent images and voices that erupted within her mind.

_The Normandy combines the best of Alliance technology and turian engineering. It shows what we're capable if we work together._

_This was my kind of mission. Kill a bunch of geth and end things with a __**huge**__ crash._

_Aw, man! My sisters would love this place. Maybe when all this is over, I'll bring them here for a girl's night out!_

_You either came out as Superman or a wreck._

_What? No! I did not mean to insinuate— Ah, I never meant to offend you, Shepard. I only meant that you would be an interesting specimen for in-depth study. No—that's even worse!_

_I'll be right behind you... that armor, it is in good condition?_

_Ah, hey, Commander. Next time we touch down; let's try not to park the ship in a colony of mutant zombies. Just thinking out loud here._

_Shepard's right. Humanity is ready to do its part. United with the rest of the Council, we have the strength to overcome any obstacle. When the Reapers come, we must stand side by side. We must fight against them as one. And together we can drive them back into dark space!_

_There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension. I am Sovereign._

Recognition registered within her mind as she recalled the events and the people that spoke within her memories. The Normandy. Her crew. Everything was beginning to come back to her. The pain in her mind began to recede, but the moment she recalled Sovereign, another assault of memories coursed through her, but they were not her own.

The warning beacon she had assimilated into her own mind when she was on Eden Prime shot through her cognizance. Sorrow, fear, pain, and helplessness were the prominent feelings that were always connected with these images. She could feel it – the death of millions of Protheans as the Reapers cascaded down upon them. She gasped for air, but she could not intake any in this dark void. Panicking, she recalled the last time she felt like this. Her suit had ruptured and she was running out of air! No! _No!_

Commander Shepard jerked awake, eyes wide and feral.

"There. On the monitor. Something's wrong." A muffled voice penetrated her ears as she tried to fight the frantic haze she found herself in. The area was so bright that she had to slam her eyes shut for a brief moment before trying to open them once more. Everything felt so out of focus and even worse, she felt like her body had been given a run in by the Mako and then slammed upon by Wrex, her krogan friend, just for good measure.

Another muffled voice spoke. It was deeper than the first one. "She's reacting to outside stimuli; showing awareness in her surroundings." Why couldn't she hear right? She tried to focus; to breathe and process the situation. "Oh my God, Miranda, I think she's waking up."

Shepard was barely able to process the surprise in the male's voice. She was too concentrated on trying to gulp in air, but found that something was lodged in her throat. Panicking, she tried to move to pull it out, but her body would not adhere to her commands. She tried again, and managed to raise her arm, albeit, very painfully. A hand stopped her. Shepard managed to move her head to her right to look at the owner of said hand. She squinted once more, trying to force her eyes to work properly.

"Damn it, Wilson! She's not ready yet! Give her a sedative!" The muffled voice was beginning to become more define. She could now identify it to be a woman's voice. Shepard also registered that it was the woman's hand that was holding down her own. She tried to move again, but the woman's grip, though gentle, was firm; she would not allow her to move.

Shepard wanted to yell at the woman to unhand her, but stopped short when the woman's face came into view. Blue, piercing eyes caught onto Shepard's, causing her mind to freeze. There was something so familiar and captivating about those eyes.

"Shepard, don't try to move." The woman commanded as she attempted to reassure Shepard.

_I know you._

Shepard forced her mind to process where she had seen those eyes. Movement behind the woman caught Shepard's attention, distracting her momentarily from the woman before her.

_Something's not right. Where am I? _

She attempted to move again, but the dark haired woman would not have it. _Let me go!_ Shepard demanded, but was unable to truly voice her thoughts. She had no idea where she was and that unnerved her greatly.

"Just lie still and try to stay calm." The woman spoke once more and this time, Shepard was able to register that she had an accent…a familiar accent. Her mind whirled more, trying to process the familiarity of the woman, but her basic instincts were disrupting her; she needed to get out! Shepard fidgeted once more, eager and desperate to flee from these strangers. Where was she?

"Heart rate still climbing. Brain activity is off the charts!" The male informed the woman as he busied himself at the monitors before him. "Stats pushing into the red zone! It's not working!"

"Then give her another dose! Now!" The woman turned to face the man, her voice cold, cross, and deadly. "We are _not_ losing her!" She growled out before turning back to Shepard, who, once more, locked gazes with her as she blocked her view of the male.

_I know you. _Shepard's mind repeated as it sifted through her memories to locate the identity of this woman. "Just try to stay calm." The woman repeated, trying to ease Shepard's apparent racing heart and flailing.

And then it hit her.

Shepard's eyes dawned in recognition but her mind was beginning to feel sluggish. "Stay calm." The woman gently said, and she reflexively obeyed, trusting the woman explicitly; eyes still locked with hers as she stopped resisting. Shepard thought she spotted surprise within the cool depths of those blue eyes, but was unsure as her vision began to darken.

"Heart rate is dropping. Stats are falling back into normal range." The male's voice was beginning to sound muffled again. "That was too close. We almost lost her."

"I told you your estimates were off. Run the numbers again." The woman pulled away briefly to yell at the man.

The last thing Shepard recalled before she drifted back into the nothingness was Miranda Lawson's soft smile and a piercing voice that reminded her of a promise she had made all those years ago.

_Find me._

**Three months later: **

_The heat of the flames was unbearable and the smoke made it difficult to navigate through the factory, but they had to continue. They had to escape. She coughed as the smoke filtered its way into her lungs. _

"_Shepard!" The raven haired girl glanced about the hazy atmosphere. She leaned against an unfinished skycar to catch her breath. "Shepard!" She yelled again, lifting up her arm to shield the heat from her eyes. How did it come to this? _

"_Hawke!" A female voice screamed over the grinding pistons and rustling sounds of the flames. _

"_Over here! I've found a way out!" Shepard's voice called out, allowing the girl to realize that Shepard was near the back corner of the factory. _

_The girl, Hawke, coughed once more from the smoke. She stumbled a bit as she made her way toward the back. Though her vision was blurred and stinging from the smoke, Hawke easily maneuvered passed the machinery and assembly lines, having practically grown up in the factory when her father had run it. She knew were Shepard was – her father's back office. _

_Finally, the two friends managed to meet. Hawke glanced over to her friend with forgiving eyes. She may have gotten her into this mess, but she was sure making it up now. "I found a vent. It should lead us out in the back alley and away from those bastards." Hawke heard Shepard say. She nodded and motioned toward it before a hand was placed on her shoulder. _

"_Look, Hawke…about all this…I'm sorry…okay…I really didn't think he would do this…I mean…" Shepard's eyes were filled with remorse and sorrow as she tried to apologize for the mess they were in._

"_Later. We'll talk about it later, okay, Shep?" Hawke waved her apology off, but she placed a comforting hand on Shepard's, letting her know that she had forgiven her already. _

_Shepard's lip twitched upward into her trademark grin, glad that her friend, Eliza Hawke, wasn't angry with her. "Okay." She nodded, rubbing her nose for a moment, before adding with a mischievous grin. "Let's go and get you to your girlfriend." _

"_Yeah, let's, before she bloody murders me." Hawke smirked as she bent downward to try and pull the vent's cover off. A loud explosion was heard outside the office, making both girls jump. _

"_Hurry it up, Hawke! This place is gonna blow!" Shepard cried out, looking around frantically. _

"_I'm on it…" Hawke replied with mild irritation, tuning out another series of explosions as she programmed her omni-tool to let out her omni-blade. Her wrist glowed orange as the holographic wrist tool came to life, followed by a virtual blade extending outward near the top of her wrist. Usually, the unleashing of the blade would awe Shepard into a giggling frenzy, but Hawke noticed that she had her thoughts preoccupied elsewhere; completely understandable given their current situation. However, she did hear a small comment from the girl behind her. _

"_Hey…that's an upgrade…" Hawke could hear the pout as she showed off a prototype her Uncle had been working on. Perks on being rich and the niece of a technology obsessed uncle – no matter how evil he was. _

"_I'll give it to you if you'll stop staring and help me open this!" Hawke reprimanded as she sliced open the vent and began pulling the heavy metal out of its hinges. _

_Shepard let out a weary chuckle. "Right. Got it." She gestured to help but froze at the sound of creaking above them. Shepard glanced upward and even through the haze of the smoke, she could see the ceiling was cracking. "Hawke…" She warned apprehensively while motioning with frantic hands for her to speed up in her work, but otherwise, was not moving to help Hawke. _

_Another loud explosion was heard, but this time, above them; the room shook aggressively. The sound of hissing and creaking sparked the red head out of her temporary paralysis. "Hawke!" Shepard screamed as the ceiling suddenly collapsed. The woman dove to save her friend and the last thing she heard was a blood chilling scream._

"_SHEPARD!" _

"Shepard!"

A groan escaped from the woman that lay prostrate on a medical table as she slowly awoke from the sound of her name. Her eyes flickered open as her body and mind tried to register her current state and location.

"Commander, get out of that bed now! This facility is under attack!" A loud voice echoed in the room, causing Shepard to hiss at the volume as she painfully sat up.

_Attack?_ Shepard squinted about her, trying to adjust to the bright lights in the room as she searched for the owner of that voice. "Wha—?" Shepard's question was instantly interrupted by a violent rattling of the room, causing her to teeter on the metal bed that she was placed upon. She groaned again as the movement caused every bit and bone in her body to protest in pain. Her hand reached up toward her face, feeling the majority of the pain originating from there. She touched her cheek and a low hiss escaped her lips as she felt the large gash.

"Commander, your scars aren't healed yet. There isn't much time. Get out of that bed and get moving; mechs are coming your way." The female voice – Shepard identified as an Australian accent – informed and commanded her. Shepard followed without a second thought, finding herself oddly comforted by the feminine voice; a distant dream seemed to surface in the back of her mind, but she didn't have the luxury to contemplate as another thrashing of the room caused her to tumble out of the bed.

"Owwwww…" Shepard moaned out as she landed on her face.

"Shepard, we don't have time for this. You need to get moving. Now get _up_!" The voice – which was getting momentarily irritating for Shepard – sounded exasperated as she urged Shepard to move.

_Bollocks._ Shepard attempted to get up, but her arms and legs felt like jelly as they struggled under her weight. She winced as she maneuvered herself to her knees. "It's hard to move." Shepard replied with a low groan.

"The sedatives are still filtering out of your system. Now, please hurry! I can't hold the mechs back much longer. You'll have to fight your way out toward the shuttles." It appeared she was going to get no sympathy from the Voice anytime soon. Why did that tone and voice sound so annoyingly familiar?

A muffled acknowledgement was Shepard's only reply as she gripped the bed's edges to haul herself up; her legs wobbling all the while. She wondered what sedatives this woman was talking about, and more importantly, Shepard wondered where she was at. An Alliance facility, perhaps? Did they rescue her and her crew after the attack on her ship? Were the Geth attacking them? She finally succeeded in standing upright. She had so many questions.

"There's a locker to your left. You'll find a pistol and some clothes." The voice's was beginning to sound more urgent and irritated all at once.

Shepard obeyed the instructions given to her, albeit very slowly given her surprisingly weakened state. As she opened the locker, she found a black and white uniform with gold lining, along with a pistol. She gave the clothing a cursory glance, fingering the odd symbol on the shoulder sleeve. She had a funny sensation that she had seen the symbol somewhere, but she could not recall any Alliance groups or companies donning the logo. Putting the thought aside, she dressed as quickly as she was able and then finally, took a look at the pistol.

The pistol appeared to be a Predator, but Shepard was very unfamiliar with this model; an unsettling thought as the pistol was Shepard's favorite weapon and she prided herself in knowing all models and types. She did a quick examination of the weapon, realizing that it did not have the standard heat sink application, but instead, appeared to have a slot in its place. She thought briefly about the rumors she had heard a few months ago about the Alliance investing studies into thermal clips. It was supposed to reduce overheating problems and increase weapon fire.

"Shepard! Get moving!" The voice jarred the marine out of her musings. _Someone's getting snippy_. Shepard couldn't help but think as she motioned toward the door. She looked back at her pistol. There was no point in using it since she didn't know how to operate it, and she learned at an early age that lack of knowledge could get her killed. She strapped the pistol into its holster and hurried toward the door, still grimacing as she forced her body to move.

Shepard managed to escape her room and entered into the hallway; it was half lit and a bit foreboding, in Shepard's opinion. Placing a hand on the wall to steady herself, Shepard followed the voice's instructions through the facility, finding little knickknacks along the way: a few lost credit chits and a thermal clip (which the voice so helpfully informed her of its use in her pistol). Shepard secretly cheered at the thought of the thermal clip – she wasn't so defenseless now – as she loaded it within her pistol.

"Shepard! Watch out! Incoming LOKI mechs." The voice warned and Shepard instinctively found some cover behind a desk. Sure enough, within seconds, three mechs entered the room.

"Hostiles detected." The mechanical robots replied in unison. Sneaking a peek above her cover, Shepard pinpointed each of their positions, noting that these mechs looked more high-end than she was used to seeing. Normally, mechs were used for all around security guards in the colonies; what were they doing here? She continued to study them, always curious when it came to technology; an old habit. It appeared someone had hacked the machines to attack them all.

"Hostiles detected." One of the closer mechs repeated, aiming their pistol over to where Shepard was located.

Shepard ducked quickly, narrowly escaping the shot that was directed to where she had peeked out from. She popped out of cover after the other two shot at her position, firing the first three shots out of the Predator pistol. She groaned in annoyance when two of the three shots she had fired missed their targets completely; her body was still too slow and weak, if the recoil was able to put her off a bit. She ducked back again, avoiding the shots fired at her as she stared indignantly at her pistol. She missed! Twice! At least she could take some satisfaction for getting one of them; its head had flown off.

She hunkered down further when a shot managed to blast off a bit of the desk. Chewing on her lip, Shepard contemplated her next move. If her aim was off, then perhaps she would be safer using her biotics. Dashing out of cover as the mechs reloaded, Shepard called upon her biotics. A warm sensation thrilled within her body as a blue aura began to surround her whole; starting from her core and expanding outward to her hands and feet. The dark energy within her demanded to be unleashed and Shepard was happy to oblige. She thrust her hands forward, unbridling the power within her in a massive wave that toppled the mechs easily. Mechanical parts flew everywhere as the mechs exploded from the immense power. Shepard did not have time to enjoy her handiwork; she was on the floor, gagging from the use of her biotics.

A surge of pain, exhaustion, and confusion erupted within Shepard's body as the blue glow about her faded away. Shepard gasped out on her hands and knees; she had collapsed the moment she fired all that energy. Using her biotics was a foolish thought; her body was weak enough as it was and adding her biotics to the mix would definitely wear her out. Shepard had known this, however, she didn't think it would be this bad; she had called upon the same energy she normally did, didn't she? It was so hard to tell when she was too preoccupied in fighting back the immense pain that vibrated through her body. She continued to gasp and inhale air for a few more minutes before forcing herself to move; she couldn't spend time dawdling.

"Commander! Do not use your biotics again!" The voice could not help but reprimand Shepard.

"Noted." Shepard wheezed out, not having the energy to give a snarky retort. _I'm fine, by the way._ She added in her mind as she heaved in more air.

Getting up, Shepard continued through the facility with the Voice's help. At one point, she spotted a large YMIR mech attacking a defenseless man behind a window. Shepard tried to help, but the glass wouldn't break when she tried to fire through it. She watched, helplessly, as the man was gunned down.

"No!" She screamed as she slammed a fist on the glass, watching as the large tank-like machine stomped away.

"Commander, there's no time; you have to keep moving." Shepard hated how the voice didn't seem to care that a man had just died, but despite it, she kept moving. She always had to keep moving.

It wasn't long until she lost her connection with the Voice; a disappointing happenstance as she realized how alone she was without her. She could hear explosions and gunfire through the communication system and her heart plummeted when static screeched across the frequency. Shepard couldn't explain the undeniable urge to go and find the woman that had helped her, let alone the urge to kill all the mechs for harming her savior, but she had to continue, for she had no other option but to move forward. She had no idea where the woman was, except where she was hopefully headed; moments before she lost communication the voice had statically informed her to meet her at the shuttle bay – wherever that was.

As the minutes wore on, Shepard's reflexes were beginning to react better to her promptings as she barreled her way through the facility; her aim and strength slowly progressing toward the positive. Shepard entered another room, cautiously, having heard the distinct sound of mechs nearby. The office she had entered beckoned her forward as she noticed data logs and, more importantly a safe on the far end of the room. It wasn't one of Shepard's proudest behaviors, but the woman was so used to scavenging and salvaging credits and parts for survival and information, that it had become second nature to her. It took her far longer than she had hoped to hack the safe as she was unfamiliar with the style of encryption, but like all codes of data, there was always a fundamental strain that she could decipher – she unlocked the safe promptly after that.

Happy that one of her secret accounts had increased, Shepard continued onward to view the logs, hoping to get an inkling of where she was at. She turned one of the logs on and was stunned to see the holo-image of a beautiful woman describing Shepard's apparent devastating injuries.

"Test subject has been recovered, but the damage is far worse than we initially feared. In addition to the expected burns and internal injuries from the explosion, the subject has suffered significant cellular breakdown due to long-term exposure to sub-zero temperatures. Despite the extent of the physical trauma, Wilson assures me subject is salvageable. The Lazarus Project will proceed as planned."

"Test subject? Salvageable? Lazarus Project?" Shepard muttered to herself as she digested the information. It sounded like she was a science experiment than a medical patient; how bad was she injured? Was this even the Alliance? Her thoughts then wandered toward her crew. What had happened to them? Were they here too? Shepard had hoped not, having seen all the dead bodies that had littered the floor as she moved about the facility; she could not bear to see her friends that way. Her eyes shimmered back the holo-image, hoping to distract her mind from the dark thoughts that were beginning to churn.

She tilted her head curiously at the image before her, noting that her voice matched the same one that had awoken her. Shepard deduced that this was the woman who had been helping her and made a mental note of her face. She stared at the image a second longer, feeling as if she should recognize the woman, but her memories weren't immediately forthcoming.

Shaking the feeling away, Shepard motioned toward the other data log, but stopped as something finally clicked in her brain. An image of a younger, similar looking brunette flew within her mind; a confident posture that enhanced her perfect frame and features as her cobalt eyes sparkled with a mysterious glint. Shepard zipped her head back toward the holo-image with wide eyes. "Miranda?" She whispered as she studied the woman's holographic eyes.

Realization struck her like a thunderbolt, causing her to backpedal into an adjacent desk. The dream she had before came rushing back; it was real. Miranda had comforted her when she had briefly awakened. She ran a hand through her hair, completely stunned and immobilized by the sudden revelation. For seventeen years, Shepard has searched for her, and now, Miranda was the one to have found her. A grin soon graced Shepard's lips as she thought about the prospect of finally talking to Miranda. Feeling ecstatic and rejuvenated, Shepard darted out of the room, forgetting about the other log and focusing on getting to Miranda as fast as she was able.

To Shepard's dismay and impatience, it seemed fate would delay her reunion when she continued to encounter the LOKI mechs throughout her journey toward the shuttle bay. Her mood perked up a bit when she found a grenade launcher lying about; her process seemed to speed up tenfold after that, not at all affected by the trailing fires she left behind her. She mostly ignored other rooms (even the seemingly "free" credit chits lying about) as she hurried to get to Miranda; enough time had kept them apart.

Shepard continued onward when she heard a large firefight occurring in the upcoming room. Cautiously, the Commander approached, pistol drawn at the ready as she slid toward the opening.

"Gravity is one mean mother, huh?" A male voice rang out in front of Shepard, causing the woman to steal a peek inside the room. She was impressed to see a dark-skinned man using his biotics to lift the mechs into the air, followed by shooting them down with his firearm. The tactic seemed to work until reinforcements arrived, forcing the man to take cover. Shepard instantly moved inside to assist the soldier, shooting at the LOKI's as she moved from cover to cover until she was beside the other human.

"Shepard?" The soldier stared at Shepard in surprise as she skidded down next to him. "What the hell?" He blinked before another round of enemy fire jarred him back to his senses. The two quickly worked on dispatching the mechs in the vicinity with practiced ease. As they worked, the soldier couldn't help but continue to speak to Shepard. "What are you doing here? I thought you were a work in progress?"

Shepard ducked under cover before shooting the man a glare. "How about you tell me who you are first?" She growled out, not liking how everyone seemed to know what was going on but her.

The soldier gave her a sheepish look before shooting once more at a mech that was getting far too close. "That's right, I'm sorry, I forgot that this is all new to you. I'm Jacob Taylor, I've been statio—" He was immediately interrupted by the approach of reinforcements and their gunfire. "Damn it!" He cursed as he unleashed another surge of his biotics; the blue aura power engulfed two mechs, lifting them in the air. Shepard then proceeded to help rid them of their heads.

Jacob glanced back at Shepard as they returned to cover. "Things must have been really bad if Miranda has you running around." He muttered as he snuck a look at the remaining mechs' positions.

"Are you with Miranda?" Shepard couldn't help but ask, despite her exasperation with the circumstances she had found herself in; her priorities were never clear when it came to Miranda.

"Yeah, but right now, we need to get you to the shuttles and off this station." Jacob informed her.

"Look, I know this isn't the best time, but I'm sick of stumbling around when I don't even know what's going on!" Shepard spouted out impatiently.

"Fair enough; I'll give you the quick version: You and your ship were attacked and destroyed. You were killed. Dead as dead can be when they brought you here." Jacob paused as he noticed Shepard's eyes widen with that news, "Our scientists spent the last two years putting you back together. You've been comatose or worse that whole time."

"You can't be serious…" Shepard muttered in shock.

"Welcome back to your life." Jacob sympathized as he popped out of cover to shoot.

"Is…is this an Alliance facility?" Shepard asked as more and more questions seemed to pile within her mind.

"No, it isn't. I can't say more than that for now. The Alliance declared you KIA. The whole galaxy thinks you're dead, Commander."

"I…I need some time to get my head around this." Shepard admitted, completely distracted with the news.

"I don't blame you for it." Jacob empathized before growling out in frustration as a ricochet bullet bounced too close to his head.

Shepard's mind was elsewhere to remember their situation. "What about my crew? Did they survive?" The red head asked over the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

"Shepard, I'll tell you what, you help me finish off these mechs, and I'll play twenty questions with you all day." Jacob graveled out as he popped out of cover to take out a few more mechs.

A wry smirk appeared on the Commander's face. "Yeah, of course." She felt completely sheepish at being reminded of their situation; a rookie mistake. She followed Jacob's lead and began taking out the machines that were wreaking havoc. Silence soon dominated the area as Shepard gazed over to the littered bodies of machines and then at Jacob expectedly.

"All right, I promised to answer your questions." Jacob began as he holstered his pistol, "What do you want to know?" Jacob immediately regretted asking that question as Shepard instantly fired question after question at him. He did the best he could to answer and alleviate her concerns, but he knew that Miranda would have been the more proper choice. After her final question, the marine stared quietly at the Commander as she processed the newly acquired information.

Shepard ran a hand through her hair as she bit her bottom lip in contemplation. _Two years…two years and everyone thinks I'm dead._ She pulled back her hand and stared at it; she still had her burnt scars. Jacob had assured her that she was still herself, but how could she be truly sure? She could be some advanced virtual intelligence who thought she was Shepard. She clenched her fist. Or worse, she could be a clone. _But_. She relaxed her hand and set it beside her. _My memories are still intact. I remember everything, but that could have been planted too. _She groaned. This was all giving her a headache. There were only two people she knew that could truly determine who she was. One of them was somewhere in this facility and the other, according to Jacob, was alive and well somewhere. She'll have to contact Liara soon; Liara would know for sure if she was herself. _Four billion credits spent bringing me back alive._ She shook her head in disbelief that anyone would want to do that for her. She noticed Jacob watching her…more like studying her. She pointed at him. "What's your job here, anyway?" She asked, wanting to divert the attention away from herself.

Jacob didn't seem fazed by the quick change of subject as he shrugged off the question. "Depends on who you ask. Technically, I'm Miranda's top lieutenant, but I'm just a soldier. I served five years in the Alliance before this. Now I'm in charge of the station's security. Usually a lot more dull than this. Normally, I don't fire my gun unless it's target practice."

At the mention of Miranda, Shepard's mind began to raise more questions. "What exactly is Miranda's position here? I mean, she woke me up and guided me through the station before I lost contact with her…and then I read these logs…" She trailed off, trying to figure out how Miranda came to be on this station.

"Miranda Lawson is the station's ranking officer. She led the Lazarus team. It was her job to bring you back to life no matter what. Should've guessed she'd tried to save you. She's not about to give up on you now." Jacob paused as concern etched over his features; he didn't notice Shepard narrow her eyes at him at the expression. "You said you lost contact with her? Can you tell me what was happening?"

"There was some gunfire and an explosion right before I lost her." Her voice was gruff and stiff as she informed Jacob, but the soldier was oblivious as he looked away.

"She knows how to take care of herself, but I hope she's okay." The statement made Shepard narrow her eyes further and she was about to ask him about his relationship with Miranda but Jacob opened his mouth first. "We should get to the shuttles."

Shepard gave him a curt nod. "What's the quickest way?" She asked as she restrained her emotions from leaking out in her posture and tone. Jacob was merely concerned about a colleague and he was being very helpful in answering her questions. She had no right to go about being angry with him for now reason, and besides, Miranda had brought her back; it was going to be fine.

"Depends on where the mechs are thickest. It's probably best if we go…" Jacob trailed off and placed a hand on his right ear. Shepard deduced that there was a radio communication there. Her guess was accurate when Jacob began talking once more. "Wilson? This is Jacob. I'm here with Commander Shepard. We just took out a wave of mechs over in the D wing."

Shepard glanced around, but her mind was whirling with thoughts and questions, and the majority of them revolved around Miranda. Who was she working for? Was she okay? How did she find her? Would she forgive her?

"Roger that, Wilson. Stay on this frequency." Jacob removed his hand from his ear and turned back toward Shepard.

"Who's Wilson?" Shepard asked, feeling as if she had heard the name before.

"He's the chief medical tech and answers directly to Miranda. He's hiding from the mechs; we'll meet up with him before we head to the shuttles. Come on, service tunnels are this way." Jacob informed the Commander.

Shepard nodded and followed Jacob as they made their way toward Wilson. The journey through the facility was much easier now that both marines had one another to sift through the hacked mechs, albeit, it seemed that they kept running into one large group of mechs after another. It seemed Jacob had noticed this too and pressed his hand to his ear.

"Damn it Wilson! This route is no good! This path is crawling with mechs!" Jacob yelled over the last remaining gunfire. "Find us another route! Preferably one that doesn't lead straight into an enemy squad." Jacob growled out before motioning Shepard onward.

"How is Wilson navigating us?" Shepard asked, wondering if it was the same system that Miranda was using to help her.

"He's in the control room, where he has control of the facility's cameras and monitors." Jacob answered.

"You said Wilson was a medical tech? How does he know how to use the security system?" Shepard asked.

Jacob paused and looked at Shepard, processing her words. "I…I don't know." He furrowed his brows together, before his radio crackled once more.

Even from her position, Shepard could hear the scream over Jacob's radio.

_Oh God, they've found me! Help!_

"Wilson, where are you?" Jacob pressed his hand to his ear forcibly.

_Server room B! Hurry! They're outta control! Aghh!_ A pistol shot was soon heard. _They've shot me! Hurry!_

Jacob turned to Shepard, who merely nodded in confirmation. The two sprinted up a flight of stairs to rescue Wilson.

"Over here, Commander!" Jacob instructed as the two skidded through the halls until they were before a room marked Server Room B. The two stopped before the doors and as they were taught, one man took point as the other opened the door.

Shepard, gun drawn and ready, dashed into the room the moment Jacob opened the door. The two did a quick survey of the room, making sure it was clear before they heard Wilson's voice.

"Shepard! Down here!" Shepard kept herself alert for any mechs as she maneuvered over to Wilson. The back of her neck tingled as her eyes darted about; there was no sign of mechs here…or gunfire. She glanced over at Wilson. "The bastards got me in the leg." He told her as he held a bloody hand over his shin.

Jacob came and quickly bent to examine Wilson's wound. "Shepard, there's a medi-gel station on the wall. It should have enough to get him moving again." Jacob gestured with his chin toward the far side of the room, where a medi-gel dispenser was located.

The tingling still hadn't subsided once Shepard had retrieved three packs of medi-gel and helped Jacob apply it to Wilson's wound; Wilson only needed one pack and he was merely grazed by a bullet. Something wasn't right to the man's story. She kept a wary eye on Wilson as Jacob helped the medical technician to his fit.

"Thanks." Wilson glanced over at Shepard, "Never thought you'd save my life. Guess we're even now." He gazed over at Jacob and pointed at the control panels behind them. "I thought I could shut down the security mech." He sighed and shook his head. "Whoever did this fried the whole system. Completely irreversible."

Jacob raised an eyebrow at Wilson and then glanced over at Shepard. Shepard noted that he must have recalled her previous question when the marine turned back to address Wilson. "We didn't ask what you were doing here. Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the Bio Wing."

Wilson seemed to bristle. "Weren't you listening?" He growled out, "I came here to try and fix this! Besides, I was shot! How do you explain that?" He demanded.

"Enough! We got enough problems with the mechs. We'll sort his out later!" Shepard slid in, knowing that it wouldn't help accusing Wilson when the mechs were still running loose and she still needed to find Miranda.

"Shepard's right. We need to get out of here. First, we need to find Miranda and then get to the shuttles; we can't leave her here."

Shepard nodded in agreement, but her eyes flared once Wilson began speaking once more. "Forget Miranda!" He told them both, "She was over in the D wing. The mechs were all over that sector. There's no way she survived."

"A bunch of mechs won't drop Miranda. She's alive." Jacob replied with determination, which led Shepard to wonder more about Miranda's life these passed 17…no…19 years.

"We're not leaving her." Shepard agreed with Jacob, making Wilson bristle more.

"If she's alive, then where is she? Huh? Why haven't we heard from her?" Wilson argued, "There are only two possible explanations. She's either dead or she's a traitor."

The notion that Miranda was a traitor did not sit well with Shepard. She took a threatening step toward Wilson, who seemed to cower at the advance. "If she's the traitor, then why did she wake me up and warn me about the attack?" Shepard growled out, her whole demeanor hostile.

"Okay…okay…" Wilson backed away and partially hid behind Jacob, "maybe she's not the traitor, but that doesn't change the fact that we're here and she's not. We need to save ourselves."

"I am not leaving her." Shepard reiterated and fortunately for Wilson, Jacob intervened.

"Shepard, she's probably made her way to the shuttles. Our best bet would be to head over there." Jacob reasoned, wondering on Shepard's intent and motivation for saving Miranda so fiercely.

"The shuttle bay is only a few…" Wilson pointed over to an opposing door, right when its doors opened and revealed another set of mechs.

Shepard growled out in irritation. This day was getting better and better. She and Jacob quickly began another firefight as Wilson dove for cover behind some crates. The two marines soon found their own cover as the mechs continued to press forward relentlessly.

Surveying the room, Shepard noticed a stack of flammable barrels before the mechs. Fueled by her own annoyance and anger toward Wilson and the mechs, Shepard pulled out her grenade launcher and instantly fired upon the barrels. The room shook as the explosion erupted, taking out the mechs and leaving scorched marks throughout the room. Once the area and smoke settled, Shepard stood and holstered the launcher across her back once more. She gave Wilson a pointed look before turning toward the door. Her movement was halted by Jacob's voice.

"Shepard." The commander turned toward the marine, one eyebrow raised questionably at him.

"What is it?" She asked.

"This is getting tense. If I tell you who we really work for, will you trust me?" What was Jacob talking about?

"Jacob, this really isn't the best time." Wilson interjected, but took a step back once Shepard darted a glare his way.

"We won't make it out of here if she's expecting a shot in the back." Jacob told Wilson, making Shepard realize that Jacob was interpreting her hostility toward Wilson as hostility toward them both. He was partially accurate; she didn't trust any of them, but that didn't mean she wouldn't work with them to escape.

"If you wanna piss off the boss, it's your ass, Jacob." Wilson's voice broke passed Shepard's thoughts and she turned to face Jacob properly, who was merely shaking his head at Wilson's comment.

"Shepard, the Lazarus Project – the program that rebuilt you. It's funded and controlled by Cerberus."

_Cerberus. _Memories instantly bombarded her at the mention of that name. Throughout her hunt for Saren, Shepard had a few run-ins with the pro-human group. They were known terrorists and experimented on a wide-range of creatures and technology. Her mind flashed to her mission on Akuze. Her squad was sent there to investigate a fallen probe, only to have been attacked by thresher maws. She was the only one to have survived that attack, until she discovered Corporal Toombs in a Cerberus facility; he had been tortured and subjugated by them. She had learned that Cerberus orchestrated Akuze as a trap. Her fists clenched. Admiral Kohoku's death was by their hands as well. Anger clouded her vision. These people inflicted pain and suffering and they were the ones that brought her back!? For what end? She gulped. Miranda was working for these people? _I feel sick…_

"I wiped out my share of Cerberus facilities and projects as a Spectre. They tried to kill me." She glared at Wilson and Jacob, hiding her true sentiments behind a cold mask. "Why the change of heart?"

"Those answers are way above my pay grade, but basically, things changed. The Alliance declared you dead. They gave up, so Cerberus spent a fortune to bring you back." He sighed. "Look, I'd be suspicious too, but right now, we have to work together. I thought you deserved to know what's what. Once we're off the station. I'll take you to the Illusive Man. He'll explain everything, I promise."

"The Illusive Man?" Shepard asked, "He's in charge of this?"

Jacob nodded, but it was Wilson who spoke. "Yeah, that's not his real name, of course. Nobody knows who he really is."

"It's a codename," Jacob added, "the Alliance used for him. Kinda stuck." He shrugged.

"Whatever. As long as he answers my questions, I'll work with you, for now." Shepard shook her head. Today was one hell of long day.

"He spent a lot of time and money to bringing you back. I'm sure he'll tell you everything you want to know." Jacob assured.

_He better._ Shepard thought as she began walking toward the doors once more.

"It's not much farther to the shuttle bay." Wilson replied as he limped to follow.

The trio continued onward, moving and fighting mechs for what seemed like an eternity for Shepard. She had enough of this place. All she really wanted to do was find Miranda, get her answers, and get back to the Alliance to stop the Reapers. It was a grand miracle when she heard Wilson declare that the shuttle bay was just beyond the doors before her. It was even a grandeur miracle when Wilson commanded the doors opened to reveal Miranda. A scowling, angry Miranda…

Shepard recognized that look. Someone was in deep shit.

Miranda? But you were….." Wilson stammered but never was able to finish his babbling when Miranda raised her pistol and shot him in the head. The blood splattered on the woman's black and white suit, but she didn't seem perturbed in the least.

"Dead?" Miranda supplied to Wilson's dead corpse.

Reflexively, and to Shepard's shame, she raised her pistol at Miranda. Jacob gapped at Miranda. "What the hell are you doing?"

"My job. Wilson betrayed us all." Miranda sneered at the dead corpse, before turning her cold, blue eyes at Shepard.

_Miri? What happened to you?_ Shepard couldn't believe that Miranda could kill someone, let alone so coldly. She tentatively lowered her weapon as she spoke. "You should have taken him alive, see what he knew."

"Too risky. I spent too much time and effort on you to let you get killed now." Miranda replied airily.

"Do you think that Wilson is really capable of that?" Jacob demanded, still shocked over a colleague's death.

"Not anymore." Miranda replied as she glanced down at Wilson's body and then back at Jacob. Shepard could have sworn she saw Miranda's lips twitch; she thought this was funny.

"Are you sure about that Miranda? We've known Wilson for years. What if you're wrong?" Jacob continued to argue.

"I'm never wrong. I thought you would have learned that by now, Jacob." Miranda replied, and Shepard couldn't help but scoff – still the confident Miranda she knew. Miranda nodded her head toward the shuttles, ignoring Shepard's aside. "Come on, let's grab a shuttle and get out of here. My boss wants to speak to you."

Shepard clenched her jaw, annoyed with Miranda's flippant attitude. She wasn't just a random person – they had history together. "You mean the Illusive Man? I know you work for Cerberus." Shepard accused. _How can you work for people like this?_

Miranda's face remained neutral, but her voice was filled with annoyance as she turned toward Jacob. "Ah, Jacob, I should've known your conscience would get the better of you."

Jacob lifted his chin and stared firmly back at Miranda. "Lying to the Commander," he folded his arms, "isn't the way to get her to join our cause."

"Nor is killing unarmed men." Shepard growled out in further annoyance. Miranda's directed her frosty glare at the Commander.

"Wilson killed my staff and sent an army of mechs to take me out once he discovered I was helping you. I got here as soon as I could." She glanced down at Wilson's corpse once more, "Too soon if you ask Wilson." She added with some dry humor, before addressing Shepard again, "Well since we're getting everything out in the open, is there anything else you want to know before we go, Commander?"

_Commander? _Shepard's mind was floundering with snarky remarks now. If she wanted to pretend that they didn't know one another, then fine. "You're the Lazarus Project's director, right?" Her voice was sharp and laced with irritation, but Miranda made no offended expression; her face remained neutral.

"That's right. I put two years of my life into this. Into you." Shepard could have sworn that Miranda's eyes burned with anger, but the emotion disappeared too quickly that she thought she imagined it.

"What does Cerberus want from me?" Shepard went straight to the point, fed up with Miranda despite their past together; the woman always knew how to press her buttons.

"Maybe you should ask the Illusive Man when you meet him. He poured virtually unlimited resources into Lazarus. Obviously, he has some kind of plan for you." Miranda drawled out and Shepard knew that the woman was being sarcastic.

Shepard clenched her fists together, trying to temper her anger. "Where are we going?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"Another Cerberus facility." Miranda answered, "The Illusive Man is waiting for you there."

"What about the rest of the people on this station?" Shepard asked, trying to use the safety of other people to quell her anger before she lashed out on Miranda. God, this woman had the knack to both infuriate and excite her.

Miranda shook her head. "This is the evacuation area. If they're not here now, they're not coming."

"How can you be so sure? We have to go back and look." Shepard was surprised at how dismissive Miranda was for another's life. She knew Miranda could be cold, but heartless?

"Are you daft? The only one worth saving is you. Everyone else is expendable." Miranda stated, finally showing some exasperation with Shepard.

"Not. To. Me." Shepard replied in kind. The two women glared at one another and thankfully, Jacob spoke up.

"She's right, Shepard. We all knew the risks when we signed up. Without you, there's no point to any of this." Jacob tried to diffuse Shepard's temper.

"What makes me more important than another?" Shepard snapped at Jacob. His words had hit her hard as they brought up memories and regrets that she desperately tried to forget.

Miranda seemed to have sense this, and spoke in a more calming tone. "I'll call in reinforcements if that makes you feel better, but there is no time; we must leave now."

Shepard exhaled harshly, processing everything that had happened thus far today. She turned to look at Miranda, wishing their reunion was different; wishing Miranda could she her. She closed her eyes and then shook her head. "Fine," She sighed in defeat, "I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime."

"Or two in your case." Miranda let loose a smile, which instantly perked up Shepard's mood despite the irony in her words. "Come on, then." Miranda led the trio into a shuttle and they immediately fled the station.

**Location: En-route to Horse Head Nebula**

The shuttle jerked lightly as it traveled at FTL speed. Shepard silently gazed out of the window, reflecting on all that had happened since the moment she had awoken. In her peripheral, she could see Miranda and Jacob sitting; the former glancing through a datapad and the latter checking his pistol.

"Commander." Shepard turned from the window to blink at Miranda. What did she want? Shepard's feelings were still slighted at Miranda's tactic of pretending not to know one another. "Before you meet with the Illusive Man, we need to ask a series of questions to evaluate your condition."

"You got to be kidding me…" Shepard muttered as she moved to seat across Miranda and Jacob. "What now?" She groaned out.

"Come on, Miranda, more tests?" Shepard was pleased to find an ally in Jacob. "Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough."

"It isn't." Miranda stated evenly as she glanced down at her datapad. "Shepard, you've been awaken prematurely and we need to know if your memory is intact; we can give you a proper physical once we reach the facility."

"This is a waste of time." Shepard replied, although her mind wandered back to her previous concerns. Was she really herself? "I feel fine."

Miranda ignored her comment and began asking questions, testing Shepard's memory on events – personal and historical. They asked her about Akuze, Elysium, Virmire, and the Battle of the Citadel. Shepard felt like a drone as she replied to their endless questions; similar to how she would respond to reporters. After twenty minutes of this, Shepard finally had enough.

"My memory is fine, all right! If you really want to know, why don't you go a little farther back, _Miranda_?" Shepard stressed the woman's name, forcing her to recall their past together. The shuttle's temperature dropped a few degrees as the two women glared at one another.

"Uh…I think her memory is pretty good, Miranda; enough with the quizzes. The memories are there and I can vouch for Shepard's combat skills personally." Jacob cut in, feeling the immense tension in the shuttle. This was not a good way to earn the Commander's trust. He glanced over at Miranda, hoping that she would stand down. What was their problem with one another?

"Hmmm." Miranda raised an eyebrow at Shepard as if deciding on the validity of Jacob's words. "I suppose you're right. We'll have to hope the Illusive Man accepts our little field tests as evidence enough." She leaned back into her seat and turned her attention back to her datapad, while Shepard fumed silently, opting to glare out the window.

**Location: Horse Head Nebula/Minuteman Station – Cerberus Facility**

Shepard stared at the holographic image of the Illusive Man. She had arrived on the station ten minutes ago, and now, found herself glaring at a seated man; immaculately dress, she might add. Miranda and Jacob had told her that she was going to meet him, but she had assumed in the flesh.

"A necessary precaution, on my part, Commander; not unusual for people who know what you and I know." The Illusive Man inhaled his cigarette before unleashing a steady stream of smoke as he explained the need for the deception. The image flickered before Shepard as she crossed her arms to address the man.

"You may be the reason why I'm still alive, but that doesn't mean I trust you." She narrowed her eyes at the man. The moment she had set her eyes on him, she knew what type of character he was; not the trustworthy kind.

"You need to put your personal feelings aside. Humanity is up against the greatest threat of our brief existence." The Illusive Man pointed his cigarette at her as he spoke.

"The Reapers." Shepard realized instantly what that threat was. That was why they brought her back? To stop the Reapers?

"Good to see your memory is still intact. How are you feeling?" He asked her, attempting to be friendly.

"You need to earn the right to ask me those kinds of questions." Shepard growled out as the back of her neck tingled, alerting her not to trust this man. He may seem to want to stop the Reapers…but at what cost?

"Cerberus isn't as evil as you believe." The Illusive Man said as he tapped the end of his cigarette on his ashtray. "You and I are on the same side, Shepard. We just use different methods to complete our goals."

Shepard clenched her fists, recalling the Cerberus facilities she had encountered – the horrendous experiments they did. She did not like his methods at all. "Cut to the chase. What are the Reapers doing that made you decide to bring me back?" There would be no point in accusing him of what he already knew was wrong, so Shepard decided to go straight to the point.

"We're at war, Shepard. No one wants to admit it," The Illusive Man stood and made his way toward Shepard, "but Humanity is under attack. While you've been sleeping, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies." He made a pointed look at Shepard. "We believe it's someone working for the Reapers – just as Saren and the Geth aided Sovereign. You've seen it yourself. You've bested them. That's one of the many reasons we chose you."

Shepard's mind whirled with the information presented to her. Innocent people were being killed by the Reapers. She placed a hand on her forehead as she bit her lip. "Fighting a war doesn't seem like Cerberus. Why are you involved?" She asked, trying to figure out a way to get the Alliance involved and even the Council. The more people were aware, the more preparations that could be made. _My God, what have they been doing since I've been gone?_

"We're committed to the advancement and preservation of humanity. The disappearance of colonies does quite the opposite." He stated evenly as he stood before her. Shepard could tell he was trying to assess her thoughts, but remained quiet, allowing her to process what was being said.

"If this is a threat against Humanity, then you need to mobilize the Alliance." Shepard stressed, but was rewarded with only a shake of his head as he took another puff from his cigarette.

"They suffered substantial losses fighting Sovereign. They're rebuilding, still stretched too thin to waste resources verifying the Reaper threat. They're blaming the attacks on mercs and pirates – easier and more convenient." He dismissed her advice.

Shepard was the one to shake her head next. The Alliance couldn't be ignoring this, could they? Was what the Illusive Man saying true? She turned her green eyes toward him, observing to see if he was lying. He didn't appear to be. "I don't trust easily." She glanced away for a moment before turning back to face him. "If what you say is true," Shepard could not believe she was deciding this, "if the Reapers _are_ behind this," she took a deep breath, "I'd consider helping you." She was probably going to regret this later.

"I would be disappointed if you accepted any of this without seeing it for yourself." He turned around and returned to his chair. "I have a shuttle ready to take you to Freedom's Progress, the latest colony to be abducted. Miranda and Jacob will brief and accompany you."

"Is this a volunteer job or am I being volunteered?" Shepard asked, indignant that the man seemed to assert his command over her. She could have sworn she saw the man sigh.

"You always have a choice, Shepard. If you don't find the evidence we're both looking for, we can part ways."

_Just like that? Four billion credits invested on the off chance that I'll find something. _No, Shepard knew better. Her own past dealings with unscrupulous fellows taught her better. Nothing was for free; there was always a price.

"But first," the Illusive Man interrupted her thoughts, "go to Freedom's Progress. Find any clues you can. Who's abducting the colonists? Do they have any connections with the Reapers?" It seemed he was trying to make her feel comfortable; maybe even manipulate her into following his orders. _God, how does Miranda stand to this guy? _"I brought you back. It's up to you to do the rest."

_If that didn't sound like passing the bucket, then I don't know what is._

Shepard gave a curt nod and the Illusive Man immediately cut the transmission. She stood there for several more minutes, considering what she had just learned. After a moment, she headed out of the room, hoping to talk to Miranda before they headed out. Maybe she would be more welcoming if they spoke alone.

**15 minutes later:**

Shepard should have known better than to assume that Miranda would open up toward her. It was like they were meeting one another for the first time again. Well, minus the part with the medical room.

"Are you feeling any discomfort since you've awakened?" Miranda asked as she stood in front of Shepard, examining the woman with her omni-tool. Her tone was all business; Shepard could not help but notice. It was just like their first meeting.

"Besides the first few minutes when I woke up, no, nothing really." Shepard stated, trying to catch Miranda's eye. She suddenly felt nervous as Miranda scrutinized her. "Just sore." She added.

"Where?" Miranda glanced up from her scans to look at Shepard.

"Um…just everywhere; I feel like I haven't used my arms and legs before." She admitted, never truly been able to hide anything from Miranda when asked directly.

"That's understandable." Miranda merely replied as she returned to scanning Shepard. "You haven't been actively using them for two years."

"Right…um, Miranda?" Shepard couldn't help but rub her arm. "Can you tell me more about the Lazarus Project? I mean, I would like to know more from the woman in charge." Why did this woman always manage to reduce her to a fumbling baboon?

"I wasn't in charge, the Illusive Man was." Miranda was quick to clarify, "If I was running the show, I would have done a few things differently."

"Like what?" Shepard asked, always enthralled with Miranda's ideas.

"To start, I would've implanted you with some kind of control chip, but the Illusive Man wouldn't allow it. He was afraid it might affect your personality, alter your character somehow." She informed the Commander as she typed some notes into her omni-tool. "He wouldn't let us do anything that might limit your potential in any way."

Shepard stared at Miranda. She was joking. She had to be. A control chip? Miranda's humor was always dry. Shepard chuckled lightly, trying to relieve the increasing nerves. "You're joking right. I mean, really, a control chip…" She trailed off as Miranda looked at her with unwavering eyes.

She had not been joking.

An awkward silence (for Shepard at least) followed.

"Well…I'm glad the Illusive Man was in charge. I don't think I would have been too happy to wake up and find I have a control chip in my brain." Shepard finally spoke, hoping to ease the atmosphere between them. She wasn't sure how she felt about that revelation, especially when Miranda was the one who recommended it, so she did the only thing she could think of: laugh it off.

Miranda did not seem amused though. She just continued scanning her and making notes on her omni-tool.

Seeing that Miranda had no further inclination to speak, Shepard decided on another tactic to get the woman to open up to her.

"Um…Miranda…I…" Shepard stammered, causing Miranda to glance up at her briefly. "…wanted to thank you." Miranda paused in her work and tilted her head toward Shepard, causing the woman to stammer some more. "I uh…I just wanted to tell you how much, uh, I appreciate what the Lazarus Project did for me." _Bollocks, she's making me act 17 again…_

Miranda appeared unfazed or gracious at Shepard's remark. "I just hope it was worth it. A lot of people lost their lives on that station."

Shepard froze as she processed her words. Her tone was very clip. She did not like the implications of that statement or her attitude. "So I saw." Shepard returned the clip tone with her own frosty one. She was getting fed up with the indifference, "For someone who spent two years putting me back together, you don't seem too fond of me."

"I have the utmost confidence in your abilities. It's your motivations that concern me. I believe in what Cerberus stands for. Only time will tell if you're an asset or a liability to our cause." Miranda explained.

"Are you serious, Miranda?" Shepard stared at the woman in disbelief. "My motivations? You make it sound as if you don't know me. How can you say that after everything we've been through?"

Miranda glared up from her omni-tool. "Do not presume, _Commander_ that our past would supply any sympathy or trust from me." Her eyes pierced Shepard, daring her to argue.

"I think it would." Shepard growled back, not affected by the woman's glare. "Or did that year mean nothing to you? Did _she_ mean nothing to you?" She prodded, feeling her temper rise.

Something flashed within Miranda's eyes, an emotion that was hard to pinpoint for Shepard. Miranda straightened her posture as she stared at the redhead; blue steel eyes filled with revulsion and something else. "Let me make this perfectly clear, _Commander_: I am not looking for a friend. The past is just that, the past. It meant nothing to me then, and it means nothing to me now. Stay focused on the mission." She snapped out, making Shepard's jaw clench as a mixture of emotions welled within her.

"Do we understand one another?" Miranda added after a very tense moment of silence.

"Yes." Shepard managed to say through her running emotions. Thankfully, she managed to keep a passive face in front of Miranda, but on the inside, Shepard was heartbroken and angry. All those years searching…wasted. Everything she had done was for nothing. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself into the hardened warrior she was known for. "You made it perfectly clear, Miranda, that I am merely Commander Jane Shepard to you."

* * *

**Author Note:**

**Happy Thanksgiving! I want to thank those that have reviewed, viewed, alerted, and are following the story! I was surprised to see what a hit the story was! I hope I can maintain your interest - I will try to update biweekly. **

**I wrote this chapter rather quickly compared to the first, so I do apologize for any grammar errors or lack of flow; my brain hurts from multiple turkey comas and an uncooperative internet signal. Please PM me if you see any so I may correct them. Again, I'm not quite sure if I'm going to make this into a complete novelization...but by the way I seem to use in-game dialogue quite frequently...who knows. I will try to limit that or change things up, since I think if you really want to hear the game dialogue, then play the game! It does it more justice than I. **

**Thanks again for taking the time to read! I do appreciate it! :)**

**Dec 8, 2013: Some edits on grammar and spelling. **


	3. Chapter 2-We Might As Well Be Strangers

**Chapter 2 – We Might As Well Be Strangers**

_I don't know your thoughts these days  
We're strangers in an empty space  
I don't understand your heart  
It's easier to be apart_

_We might as well be strangers in another town_  
_We might as well be living in another town_  
_We might as well_  
_We might as well be strangers_  
_For all I know of you now._

_Keane - We Might As Well Be Strangers_

**Location: ****Serpent Nebula/Widow System/Citadel – Docking Bay 47/Normandy SR-2**

Shepard breathed in the artificial air that flourished within the docks of the Citadel. It felt surreal to be back here. Her green eyes scanned the area, taking in the renovations that two years had provided the large station. The space station seemed more vibrant and alive since the last time she had set foot upon it; more people, lights and star ships littered the port. It seemed the devastation left by Sovereign was already long forgotten. No wonder people were ignoring the Reaper threat – they didn't believe it existed when life seemed to move on so easily.

She sighed. They were due for a rude awakening. Her thoughts reflected on Freedom's Progress and the information she had discovered there. The Illusive Man's assumptions were correct. Someone was helping the Reapers abduct human colonies. It was a group called the Collectors. Shepard had only heard about them a few times in her life, and what she had heard was not good. They seemed to be mercenaries and slavers that resided through the Omega-4 Relay; an area that was dangerous and those that venture through were never seen again. She had once thought it was an urban legend, but seeing Miranda and Jacob's reaction was making her into a believer. Not to mention the video footage she had managed to get from the Quarian named Veetor.

_Poor sod._ Shepard thought about the traumatized Quarian. He was the only one left alive in that ghost town. It was a good thing that Tali and a squad of Quarians were there to take him home. Tali. Her dear friend Tali had been on Freedom's Progress. Their reunion was bitter sweet as it took Tali a moment to trust her, but in the end, she did; it only solidified the fact that two years had indeed gone by. It was good to see her, but sadly, they had to part ways as they both had their own missions to fulfill. Shepard had high hopes to recruit the woman that she considered a little sister, but fate would not make it so.

Shepard leaned against a railing by the docking doors as she waited for Miranda and Jacob to join her. It was hard to think that her old crew was scattered across the galaxy. She needed a good trustworthy team to take down the Collectors. The Illusive Man had provided some dossiers of possible recruits, but Shepard needed more. She needed her old resources and the Council to support her mission; she needed help to defeat the Reapers.

These thoughts were the main reasons that led her here, back to the Citadel, and requesting to see Anderson and by extension, the Council. She was going to need help; as much as she could gather.

"You ready, Commander?" A male voice asked behind Shepard. "Or are you just going to inhale the crappy fake air all day?"

"Shut it, Joker." The smile belayed the hostile tone that had escaped Shepard's mouth. It was so good to see Joker again. She was definitely surprised to learn that Joker had teamed up with Cerberus during her two year absence, but did not fault him for it; they allowed him to fly while the Alliance shunned and clipped his wings – a big no-no according to the pilot.

"Can't help it, Shepard. I got two years of blatant and inappropriate teasing to make up for." The pilot smiled.

"And I got a two-year-back-of-the-head-smack waiting for you if you continue this treacherous path of yours." She retorted back before nudging him gently in the shoulder with her own. She was thankful for his presence. It granted some marginal comfort in this suicide mission of theirs, as well as moral support for what she was about to do.

"Hey, Commander, say 'Hi' to Anderson for me, will ya? And let me know what he says about your glowing face!" Joker let loose a smirk before ducking from Shepard's playful attempt to hit him on the back of the head. "All right, all right, I can take a hint! I'll see you later, Shepard." The pilot waved her off before heading back into the Normandy SR-2. "I'm gonna stay and keep an eye on the damn cyber leech and see if I can cross a few wires…"

"Play nice, Joker!" Shepard yelled behind her as she heard the docking door open with a loud hiss.

The Normandy. Shepard never thought she would see the ship again. She turned around to face the massive slick freighter. It seemed Cerberus had not only decided to resurrect her, but the ship as well. And like her, it came with new improvements. One of the most noticeable qualities of the new ship was the artificial intelligence known as EDI, short for Enhanced Defense Intelligence.

The AI was indeed a novel idea, in her geeky tech opinion, but not to Joker. The helmsman was still sarcastically fuming at the apparently horrendous idea that they needed a "tyrannical talking computer" to help him fly. Granted, EDI held other duties, but Joker was still apprehensive, within good reason…most of the time. After all, AI's were never known to obey organics very long, as the Geth and Quarians were prime examples.

Shepard rubbed her tired face with her hand. Thinking of Quarians reminded Shepard of Tali once more, and with that, their last meeting. She had just seen her not two days ago on Freedom's Progress, but all she could recall was the heated argument she had with Miranda about Tali and Veetor. That mission was a painful one and not in the terms that Shepard or her squad, comprised of Miranda and Jacob, received injuries, but of the other sort - where their teamwork was so shoddy that it became a liability. Shepard gritted her teeth. She worked well with Jacob. It was Miranda that had caused the squad's imbalance.

Miranda was extraordinary during the firefights. Her substantial display of biotics and combative prowess had Shepard impressed (and at some points, mesmerized), to say the least, however, that was not the problem. It was her attitude.

God that woman infuriated her on that mission – second guessing her orders and even taking actions that would be akin to rogue behavior! She tightened her hands into fists. And not only that, the woman had argued with her the whole way back from Freedom's Progress!

Shepard sighed once more. Fine, she admitted that she had egged Miranda at some points, but she still couldn't get over the woman's cold demeanor toward her. It was difficult for her to even concentrate during combat when all she could think about was the heartache that demanded to consume her. Years searching and for what? Miranda professed that she never seemed to care about those days as Shepard had. Did they truly mean nothing to her?

A sharp, phantom pain throbbed in her gut. God, she half wished that she was still dead. To feel nothing looked really appealing at the moment. She shook her head, hoping to erase those morbid thoughts. She was merely wallowing in self-pity for a moment. She needed to get her act together. She needed to find new purpose now. It would be hard, but at least she could vent some marginal frustrations out on the Collectors.

"Sorry, Commander, I got held up putting our weapons list together." Jacob's voice sounded behind Shepard.

"It's all right, Jacob." Shepard gave him a polite smile and then glanced behind him. "No Miranda?" She glanced at his civilian clothing that consisted of a dark green t-shirt, jeans, and a denim jacket, glad that he had adhered to her suggestion; it would do them no good to be parading in Cerberus uniforms. Shepard herself was wearing simple jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket - with her pistol tucked safely behind her back, hidden from view by her jacket – that she managed to get from Cerberus.

"She'll be out in a moment, Commander." Jacob gave a hesitant reply, no doubt reliving their last mission together with a mental grimace.

"I don't doubt it…if I remember hearing her correctly; she threatened to shoot my kneecap if I even entertained the idea of leaving the ship without her." Shepard rolled her eyes.

"Look, Shepard, she means well, really. She does. It just, Miranda can be…"

"A pain in my ass?" Shepard supplied with a cheeky grin.

"Dedicated. I was going to say dedicated." Jacob couldn't help but return the Commander's smile. "You just have to get pass the frosty exterior. She can be quite pleasant once you know her."

Shepard sighed. She personally could attest to that assessment. "I know, Jacob." She replied quietly as her mind reflected upon the past. The somber tone had elevated Jacob's curiosity, which he demonstrated with a lift of his eyebrow. Shepard noticed and quickly added, "She doesn't make it easy, does she?"

Jacob chuckled. "No, that she doesn't, ma'am."

"It wouldn't be worth it if it was easy, now would it?" Miranda appeared beside Jacob, making the male marine jump, and eliciting a curious eyebrow from Shepard.

"No, Miss Lawson, I think it would not." Shepard replied after a pensive moment, wondering on the woman's sudden playful nature and how she managed to exit the Normandy without them noticing. Shepard then let out a sigh as she noticed the woman's apparel. "I thought I said civilian clothing, Miranda?" She gestured toward the woman's usual uniform.

"I apologize, Shepard. I was running late and had forgotten to change." Miranda politely replied as soon as she stood before them in her black and white Cerberus cat suit (which left nothing to the imagination on Miranda's figure).

Shepard and Jacob looked at one another. Since when did Miranda forget to do anything? Since when was Miranda polite? Unsure whether or not Miranda had ignored her purposefully, Shepard merely shrugged off her jacket and handed it to her. "To cover up the logo." She explained when Miranda raised a delicate eyebrow.

Shepard and Jacob's surprise further increased when Miranda placed the jacket on wordlessly. They continued to stare at one another in disbelief until Miranda called for their attention in slight irritation and amusement. Shepard lightly shook her head and chuckled as she noticed how far up Miranda was.

"I know it has been awhile since you've been here, Commander, but I still doubt Councilor Anderson would appreciate you being late for your meeting." Miranda called out before turning forward once more.

Shepard smiled sheepishly and followed after Jacob and Miranda, but not before her eyes lingered on the distancing woman. _Bloody hell, she looks good with that on…oh, bugger, that woman is trying to kill me…_

**Location: Normandy SR-2 – Executive Officer's Quarters**

**Twenty Minutes Prior to Meeting with Commander Shepard and Jacob Taylor**

Miranda's fingers hovered over her computer terminal. It had been a good twenty minutes and Miranda still had not been able to write a single word of her report to the Illusive Man. She groaned out in defeat, standing and pushing herself away from her desk. The source of her frustrations (no surprise), was Commander Shepard.

"Ass." Miranda mumbled as she paced about her room, trying to gain a handle over her emotions. The woman had managed to invade her thoughts for the past forty-eight hours. Their last conversation, or rather, argument, lingered in her mind.

"_Shepard! We should have taken Veetor with us! He could have provided us invaluable information about the attack on Freedom's Progress and on the Collectors!" Miranda logically debated once more as they rode the shuttle back to a designated Cerberus facility. _

"_How could he have helped us, hmm? He could barely string two words together! The poor guy is traumatized as it is! I won't add being mentally dissected by Cerberus to it!" Shepard shot back, eyes flaring in anger. "He's better off with his own people; they'll take care of him. And we have the data that he managed to salvage about the attack. It's enough." _

"_He would not have been dissected, Commander!" Miranda argued back, subconsciously noticing Jacob slipping (escaping) to the front of the shuttle to talk to the pilot. "We could have helped calm him and question him further about the Collectors!" _

"_Enough, Miranda!" Shepard's voice boomed throughout the shuttle, the strength of it surprising the Cerberus operative. "This has got to stop!" She placed herself right in front of her, eyes unwavering and voice uncharacteristically quiet but unnerving (though Miranda would never show or admit to it). "You brought me back to stop the Reapers, and I will, but not with your constant henning and pestering. We do things my way or not at all. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?" _

_A deafening silence followed as the two women sized one another. _

"_Perfectly." Miranda finally hissed. _

Miranda was no fool. She understood the parameters of the mission. Its success rode upon Shepard's shoulders. Miranda still had yet to see the supposed legendary Commander work her charm and skills.

Although Miranda was mildly impressed with Shepard's performance on Freedom's Progress, she still did not understand the supposed hype that surrounded the Commander. Miranda hadn't even seen Shepard display her biotics during that mission – a skill that the Cerberus operative was eager to witness as Shepard never displayed any biotic potential when they were younger. It was said, and Miranda had studied Shepard's combative files and vids extensively prior to and during the Lazarus Project to reluctantly agree, that Shepard's power and aptitude was a wonder to behold; Shepard was an artist on the battlefield; a dancer that moved fluidly without a wasted beat or purpose. Miranda may dislike the woman, but she did have a finesse about her that even made the supposed perfect woman envy.

However, during the mission, Shepard was reserved as she issued her orders and attacked the mechs and drones that assaulted them. There was no display of biotics and some of Shepard's choices were shoddy; her mind appeared to be unfocused. So, Miranda thought it best to take control of the situation before they all got killed. Perhaps she should have done in a more subtle or supportive way, but they did not have the time for it. The result was the constant arguments on the field and the lack of teamwork performance. No matter how hard Miranda tried to help the situation, it seemed only to infuriate Shepard further, and thus, infuriate her because she had become the target of the Commander's verbal assaults. Needless to say, that mission did not go well.

Miranda sighed out as she thought about Shepard further. How was she supposed to trust a woman that seemed to be an unpredictable loose cannon? It was hard enough to work with a woman that brought back unpleasant and haunting memories as it was. Her fists flared with her biotics.

"That pompous, backstabbing bastard…" Miranda muttered to herself as she thought about the reason why she despised Shepard.

All she saw was that scrawny red head from the Vancouver slums, who was waiting to betray them for the next credit that came waltzing her way. Miranda tightened her fists as she continued to relentlessly make a worn path from her pacing. Everyone may be fooled by the Commander, but she knew better. She knew that deep down that little rat was still there, waiting to screw her life over just as she did 19 years ago.

"_Miri." _ A soft British voice echoed within Miranda's mind. _"She's not as terrible as you make her to be."_ Miranda stopped her pacing and closed her eyes, reliving the memory that that voice now generated.

"_I don't understand it, Eliza. How can you associate yourself with such a person? She's a compulsive liar and seems to get you into all sorts of trouble." A 16 year old Miranda Lawson sat on a blanket that was laid out on the grass of the Hawke estate. _

_An exasperated sigh escaped from the girl beside her, causing Miranda to gaze into the light blue orbs that belonged to Eliza Hawke. "Shepard may be difficult to handle sometimes, but that's just her. She has her vices, as does any of us, but she has a good heart." _

"_Doubtful." Miranda muttered, which earned a laugh from her companion. She felt the warm arm of Eliza wrap itself around her waist and pull her toward her. _

"_You know, she's not so different from yourself." Eliza spoke in her ear, making Miranda's senses tingle with anticipation. _

"_How so?" Miranda attempted to restrain the pleasant shiver that was generated from the girl's proximity through feigned irritation. She would never understand how Eliza managed to break through all her barriers, and truth be told, she didn't want to. _

"_You both are more than what you seem and you're loyal to those that you hold dear." Hawke supplied as her lips tenderly kissed Miranda's neck, earning a small gasp from the recipient. _

"_That is considered cheating, you know." Miranda managed to say once Eliza pulled away after a moment. _

_Eliza chuckled once more. "All's fair in love and war, as they say. Besides, what I speak of is true. In any rate, give Shepard a chance. I trust her; she's my best friend and I do want you both to get along. This is new to her as it is new to the both of us." _

"_I suppose you are right." Miranda sighed out as she gazed over the vast estate, admiring the foliage and azure skyline. "It's just difficult sometimes…"_

_Eliza smiled knowingly. "It wouldn't be worth it, Miranda, if it was easy, now would it?" _

Miranda exhaled slowly and opened her eyes. Emotions that she barred away to experience only in the dead of night came rushing forward. Grief and anger the most prominent of them all. She had lied to Shepard. Eliza did mean something to her; she meant everything to her.

The operative inhaled air and slowly exhaled once more, a practice she was familiar with when taming her emotions. That was why it hurt so much. That was why she despised Shepard so greatly. The woman was responsible for her world crumbling. She inhaled. It didn't matter anymore. She exhaled.

The past was the past.

Inhale.

Eliza was gone.

Exhale.

She had to think of the living.

Inhale.

She had to protect Oriana now.

Exhale.

Cerberus gave her that chance and much more.

Inhale.

She has a purpose now. Direction.

Exhale.

Shepard was helping them defeat the Reapers.

Inhale.

So she would control her emotions and be a damn professional about it.

Exhale.

Miranda finally calmed her body and mind. She could do this. For Eliza, she would do this. She glanced at the clock that sat beside her terminal. _Blast it._ She was late going ashore with Shepard and Jacob. She quickly exited her quarters and made way to the ashore party.

Personally, Miranda thought it was a foolhardy mission to try and gain the Council's support; they were the main group that attested that the Reapers were fictional beings and had even slandered Shepard's claims after her death. However, Shepard wanted things done her way, and the Illusive Man had assured her that Shepard would be able to do the impossible; so, Miranda would follow her into Hell, but that woman sure as bloody hell better earn her trust in the process.

**Location: Serpent Nebula/Widow System/Citadel – Presidium Embassies **

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Shepard!" Anderson gripped Shepard's hand warmly as they greeted one another.

"Thanks. It's good to see you, Anderson." She smiled up at him. "I'm glad you accepted my message. I wasn't sure how to word it or if you would believe me."

"I won't lie to you, Shepard; it definitely took me by surprise." Anderson chuckled as he relinquished her hand and gestured for her and the other two humans to take a seat in his lavish office.

"Yeah, I can relate to that." She smiled wearily as she sat in the chair opposite of Anderson. She couldn't help remember the last time she was here. Anderson had given her the mission to investigate the Geth. It was so strange how that felt like a lifetime ago. Perhaps in her case, it was. She shrugged off the thoughts that would lead her to think about her death and concentrated more on the present.

"Yeah," Anderson managed to say. The human councilor rubbed his shoulder briefly, indicating to Shepard how tired and nervous he was. "But I'm glad you're here. It's been a long two years without my favorite rookie." The war hero smirked over at her as he observed her.

It was true that he accepted her extranet correspondence, but Anderson had been skeptic to believe that Shepard was alive – so many rumors had arisen about Shepard being alive these days, and even worse, that she was working with the terrorist group, Cerberus. He had hoped the latter wasn't true, for if it was, he wondered what else they had done to Shepard.

It wasn't until the very moment she had walked in that he knew that she was indeed Commander Shepard. Her eyes still had that passion, though duller than he remembered, and she still looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn't even imagine what was going on in her head. Two years had gone by, but to Jane, it probably felt like yesterday since they last spoke.

Shepard gave an apologetic grin. "Sorry. If it helps, it wasn't my fault."

"I know Shepard, but in any case, I'm sure that you didn't drop by for just a social call."

Anderson knew it wasn't Jane's prerogative to have idle chit-chat; she always had a goal or purpose to everything she did. It was what made her, well, her. Since they had first met, Anderson knew that the girl had a goal. What it was, always eluded him, but it kept her motivated and determined to succeed in the Alliance.

He studied her a moment longer before turning his gaze over to her comrades. He had his speculation on who they were, but refrained from voicing them until it was necessary. Right now, he would give Shepard the chance to explain.

"I wish it was." Shepard sighed and looked out of the window behind Anderson, her eyes distant as she thought about the Reapers and Collectors.

"Shepard?" Anderson's voice broke through the woman's reverie.

"Sorry," Shepard apologized, "it just, I don't know how I can explain this, so I'm just going to tell you how it is."

"Shepard…" Miranda quietly warned her Commander about giving the Councilor too much information.

"It's all right, Miranda; I trust him." Shepard turned her head to gaze at the woman on her right. She could tell by the tight clench in Miranda's jaw that she still did not approve, but by some miracle, refrained from voicing it further. Shepard turned back to a curious Anderson. "Cerberus brought me back; I'm working with them now to stop the Reapers."

"Shit, Shepard." Anderson groaned out as he rubbed his face. He quickly stood, making Miranda and Jacob tense in response. "Shit." He repeated as he walked off to the open balcony. Shepard immediately understood. Anderson wanted a private conversation. She followed right after him, gesturing for Miranda and Jacob to stay put.

"Anderson, I know how it looks, but you must trust me." Shepard's voice was quiet as she watched her mentor grip the balcony railing in disbelief and frustration.

"I don't know, Shepard. This doesn't look good at all." Her former Captain sighed out.

"The Reapers are coming, Anderson. They're coming and no one is doing anything." Shepard scoffed out in disbelief. "I mean, look," She gestured out toward the lush and beautiful gardens of the Presidium, "look at this place. Everyone is so ensnared by an illusion of peace and tranquility that they're too afraid to see the truth. The Reapers are real. They're coming. And right now, Cerberus is the only one doing anything about it."

Anderson listened carefully to her words, knowing the truth of them. Hell, it had gotten worse after she died. The Council and the Alliance tossed the notion of the Reapers aside and buried Shepard's warnings with a cloud of smoke and mirrors. He had tried his best to get them to believe the oncoming threat, but even he had his limits; they stopped listening and never prepared.

"You're certain you can trust them?" Anderson finally managed to ask.

"No. I mean," Anderson noticed how Shepard gazed over to the two operatives sitting inside, "it's too early to see if I can trust my team, but the Illusive Man – the man in charge of Cerberus – I know I can't trust him. But they're doing _something_ to stop the Reapers. I'm going to use them as much as possible to stop the Reapers and I'm going to do it _my_ way." She assured him that she hadn't compromised her morals or the Alliance.

"Can you tell me anything?" Anderson turned to face her, believing that Shepard would do the right thing.

"Not everything. But I can tell you that the Reapers have hired the Collectors to abduct human colonies in the Terminus System." Shepard explained, feeling elated that Anderson believed her. That he trusted her. It was more than she had from anyone she had met since she awoke.

"What do you need?" He asked after some thoughtful contemplation. He knew Shepard was speaking the truth. The Alliance had gathered some intelligence regarding the Collectors recently and had predicted that they might attack the colony Horizon. He knew he couldn't tell Shepard, despite his own fatherly relationship with her, as the mission was classified and still in its infant stages, but mainly because he didn't trust the new bedfellows that had entrapped her into working with them.

"I need to speak with the Council; I need my Spectre status back and warn them about the Collectors. They need to know."

"Ah, damn Shepard." Anderson sighed out and gave her a defeated grin. "Why can't your requests ever be easy?"

Shepard instantly recalled the words Miranda had spoken to her today. "It wouldn't be worth it if it was easy, now would it?" She told her former captain with a cheeky grin.

**Location: Serpent Nebula/Widow System/Citadel – Zakera Ward**

"Well, that went better than I had hoped." Shepard smiled happily as she and her teamed moved through the bustling market.

"I'm surprised that the Council reinstated you, Commander." Miranda admitted.

"Yeah, Shepard, I thought they were going to skewer you." Jacob added with a smirk.

"No faith…" Shepard muttered, but could not fault them for their comments. She too was surprised at the Council's approval of reinstating her as a Spectre. She was glad, of course, but knew it was a political strategy to get her out of their cross-hairs. She was told to operate only in the Terminus System as she investigated the Collectors. It didn't matter. Shepard had her resources again.

After they had thanked Anderson for his help, Shepard decided to make sure that her crew and squad mates would have their basic needs met by going shopping. Hence, she found herself in the Zakera Ward, browsing through shops and stalls and even vindicating a Quarian from being falsely accused of stealing a volus' credit chit.

"In any rate, we need to gather some supplies, Commander." Miranda quickly changed topics as she scrolled through her omni-tool.

"Right, I promised Gardner that I would get him better food. Jacob, you okay getting some new mods and equipment for our artillery? And Miranda, you're on getting better gear." Shepard asked as she mentally went through her list.

"Sure thing." Jacob pulled out his own omni-tool to look at his own list. "I'll make sure I'll get you that left-handed pistol too." He added.

"Mm-hmm." Miranda supplied, slightly perturbed at being _told_ to get the gear instead of being asked like Jacob. Of course, Miranda knew what Shepard was doing. The blasted woman was testing to see if the sudden niceties Miranda had been displaying were going to last long; she had been doing it all day. With great effort, Miranda opted to one worded answers or mutterings to stay her temper.

"Perfect." Shepard smiled as she recalled her last conversation with Jacob while they were on the Normandy. She had asked him to procure a left-handed pistol as she preferred to be a weapon's duelist. It fit well with her variety of fighting styles and biotics. She glanced over at Miranda, noticing how her jaw clenched. Perhaps this day was going to be well. Miranda was making an effort to be nice, even after her constant baiting. Shepard chuckled softly to herself. She'll allow her passive aggressive self to leave Miranda alone; if the woman could try to play nice, Shepard would do the same.

The trio continued to walk until Shepard heard her name over a one of the holographic advertising stands.

"Commander Shepard! Enter the password and receive a free gift." An image of a hooded woman appeared, but Shepard ignored the stand and continued forward. She hated those blasted things…yelping her name all over the place…

"Commander Shepard! Got problems with Collectors? Try Kasumi's credit services" The image appeared on another advertising stand.

Shepard paused mid walk and studied the hologram. The words of the ad churning in her mind. She chuckled to herself while shaking her head in disbelief. Kasumi Goto. That was one of the dossiers that the Illusive Man provided. A master thief and infiltrated.

Shepard turned toward Miranda and Jacob and gave them a silent command with the nod of her head. _Stay on watch._

The two were quick to pick up the situation and made a casual effort to observe their area as Shepard walked over to the ad stand.

"Commander Shepard, please tell me your password to claim your free gift." The woman stated in a robotic manner.

Shepard couldn't help but laugh. She remembered the password that was provided in the dossier. "Silence is golden."

The ad flickered and Shepard could see the woman was smiling under her hood. "Nice to finally meet you, Commander. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan." The woman began and the two soon enjoyed a nice, if a bit out of sorts, conversation with one another.

**Location: Normandy SR-2/ Enroute to Omega**

Shepard approached the door with nervous anticipation. The feeling was a natural occurrence lately whenever Shepard tried to speak with Miranda. She paused in her steps. She had yet to really sit down and speak with her ever since the incident in the medical room. She had been avoiding the woman, to be honest, unsure how to speak and interact with her without it turning into an argument. Shepard was hopeful that with this new, if sudden, attitude of Miranda's that they could hold a descent conversation.

Shepard took a deep breathe. She had been avoiding this moment all evening, but now there wasn't anything precedent to attend to now – Gardner had his new supply for their cuisine, Jacob had equipped the current squad with the latest mods and weapons, Dr. Chakwas (who was her chief medical officer on the original Normandy, was on leave from the Alliance and decided to join Shepard on her mission) had been given an ice brandy to celebrate her resurrection and camaraderie, Kasumi was settled in the Lounge and Joker was plotted toward Omega, where they were picking up the scientist Mordin Solus and the vigilante Archangel for their mission, and the crew was good in their needs for the moment. All in all, it was a productive day.

Damn it. Shepard wished there was something else she could do. She bit her lip and rubbed her arm. She took in a quick breath. She wasn't a coward. She could do this. It wasn't that she was afraid of Miranda Lawson. More than anything, Shepard wanted to speak to her, but was unsure _how_ to speak with her. If their first encounter on that Cerberus station indicated anything, it was that they had changed. For the better, it was hard to tell at this point.

They were strangers now, Shepard had realized, and circumstances had brought their destinies together once more. Shepard had dreamed of this moment since their separation, but had always imagined finding Miranda in a metropolitan city in Europe or in the off world colonies. She would be living a normal life, hiding from her father, but living a normal life. She wouldn't be here…with Cerberus.

There was so much she wanted to tell Miranda and to learn from her. But with their strained relationship, Shepard was beginning to think it was best to refrain from telling the complete truth. She held too many secrets now, and perhaps, Miranda would hate her for it. It was better this way…

Shepard turned to go, feeling a heavy heart as she feared Miranda's reaction toward her. She stopped halfway into her turn (she might have looked foolish if anyone was around to witness her indecisiveness). Despite it all, Shepard still wanted to know what had happened to Miranda all those years ago. How she came to work with Cerberus and why? Shepard wanted those 17 years of gaps filled. Maybe if she had some closure, she could focus more on her duty. Resolute, Shepard turned back to Miranda's quarters.

She raised her hand to the door pad giving it a push. The pad flickered green and upon command, the door opened.

Shepard stepped inside and instantly spotted the brunette busily working on her computer terminal. Miranda was an image of tranquility and focus as she worked. Her eyebrows slightly scrunched as she stared at her screen in concentration. It reminded Shepard of all those times she had seen Miranda studying over the piles of books her father instructed her to read or whenever she was listening to her instructors at the equestrian academy or preparing her attack against a fencing opponent. Memories of better times flooded Shepard's senses. Shepard knew that they may be different now, but the core of their true selves still lingered. Perhaps if she could find Miranda once again, Miranda would find her.

_It wouldn't be worth it if it was easy, now would it?_ Familiar words echoed in her mind. All she had to do was wait and hope.

Gathering up her courage and safeguarding her emotions, Shepard spoke with a pleasant smile.

"Miranda, do you have a minute?"

**Location: Unknown**

_Operative Wilson has been eliminated. Data unsalvageable. Commander Shepard is alive._ _– V._

The Shadow Broker narrowed his eyes as he stared at the incoming message from one of his agents. His throat emitted a low, dangerous growl. This was an unexpected set back. Operative Wilson had assured him that Commander Shepard would not be revived. He slammed a large, scale-like fist onto his desk; the weight igniting a terrified creak from the metallic object. The Commander had been a thorn in his side for far too long; even in death she continued to foul his plans.

A high pitched beep alerted the Shadow Broker of another high priority message. With practiced ease that came with years upon years of routine, the Shadow Broker opened the specified encrypted message and began to decode it within minutes.

_Shepard is alive. She was spotted on the Citadel. I advise caution as her Spectre status has been reinstated. I have confirmed that she is working with Cerberus and is working on defeating the Collectors. She is recruiting. I have attached a video feed of her boarding what appears to be a Normandy class frigate. Her next location is unknown. I will update you the moment she returns to the Citadel. – B.V. _

The Shadow Broker eased away from the holographic screen, pondering on this resurfaced piece in the game. The Collectors still held a high price on Shepard's head, but the Broker still had a personal vendetta to settle with the so-called Savior of the Citadel. The Shadow Broker would see to the woman's death before delivery her body to the Collectors. As he thought about the many possibilities on torturing the Commander, the Shadow Broker opened the video feed that was attached to Barla Von's message.

The image of the Citadel docking bay flickered onto the screen, illuminating the carefully planned lighting in the room. Darkness faded away briefly to reveal four cold, amber eyes staring at the video. The Shadow Broker folded his large hands together and rested his elbows on the massive desk as he watched four individuals walk toward the Normandy airlock.

"_Don't mind that I settle myself in the Observation Lounge, do ya, Shep?" A small, hooded petite woman bounced before Commander Shepard._

An interesting predicament – it seemed Barla Von managed audio.

"_What? How do you know we have an Observation Lounge?"_ _The dark skinned male's voice was filled with shock as he watched the small woman hop into the Normandy. "How does she know we have an Observation Lounge?" He repeated, but this time, to Commander Shepard and another dark-haired female. _

"_She's an acclaimed thief, Jacob. How should I know? I barely knew we had one until twelve hours ago." Commander Shepard shrugged. _

"_What I want to know is how she managed to get on board and sneak her equipment within our own cargo _without _alerting EDI or any of the crew." The dark-haired female sounded irritated and displeased. _

"_Are you sure we can trust her, Commander?" The male asked, his back the only visible profile that was obtained on the feed. _

_Commander Shepard seemed to assess the statement and then shrugged once more. "Your boss hired her, but if you want my opinion: yes, I think we can."_

"_What makes you so confident in that statement, Commander?" The dark-haired female crossed her arms, almost in a defiant gesture. _

"_I don't know. I can just tell." The Commander informed the male and the female. _

"_Are you sure that isn't your ego talking, Shepard? I mean, she did say you had a good aura about you." The male chuckled and Commander Shepard own laughter followed soon after. _

"_I am a sucker for flattery." She turned to face the dark-haired female, who was now facing away from the camera and toward the spacecraft. "Seriously, Miranda, it'll be fine. Besides, all she's asking us to do is help her on this heist of hers. Once we do that for her, I'm sure she'll be more liable to trust us."_

"_As you say, Commander." The dark-haired female, now identified as Miranda, replied in a clip tone as she departed into the Normandy._

_Commander Shepard sighed. "And she was behaving so nicely today…"_

The video and audio ended immediately, signifying the end. The Shadow Broker, however, pressed a few buttons and the recording played once more.

"_Seriously, Miranda, it'll be fine."_

The Broker paused the video feed. He drew himself closer to the screen and all four of his eyes narrowed as he processed the image and the name that escaped her lips. After a few moments, recognition seemed to dawn within those cruel amber eyes and the sharp rows of teeth glistened under the computer lights as the Broker broke into a malicious smile. He had now found out the best way to gain Commander Shepard's cooperation.

The turn of the tide was now in his favor. The players were at his mercy as the game took an unexpected, but favorable turn for the one who held all the cards. The Shadow Broker would survive; his methods and legacy ensured.

* * *

**Author Notes: **

**So here's another chapter! Thanks for the reviews and taking the time to read. I do appreciate it as it keeps me motivated to write. I know this chapter is lacking some action, but I needed to get the ground work sorted for the story to progress. As you can see, I have forgone the novelization as I don't want to deter from the Mass Effect telling of the story and bore you all with in-game dialogue. Let me know if this style is preferred or not and I can see if I can mix the two as I have in the previous chapters. **

**Again, let me know if there are any grammatical errors or confusion in the story thus far. I would be grateful and very appreciative. **

**Thanks again and Happy Holidays! **


	4. Chapter 3-Scars

**Chapter 3 – Scars**

_I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.  
My weakness is that I care too much.  
And our scars remind us that the past is real.  
I tear my heart open just to feel._

_Papa Roach – Scars_

**Location: Local Cluster/Sol System/Earth/Australia – Brisbane**

**2166 CE**

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more." The soft voice of Eliza quietly caressed the summer air as she sat with Miranda upon the roof of the large manor of the Hawke estate.

The two women sat entwined with one another; one was sitting against the old brick balcony wall, while the other was lying prostrate on a blanket, her head resting in the other's lap as they held one another's hand.

"I can't believe this is the man's conclusion after all he did." Miranda interrupted Eliza as she glanced down at the woman in her lap.

"Shh! We're almost done!" Eliza pointed a mock glare at her and Miranda resumed listening and gazing at the sunset with a playful eye roll. The peace of the ending day returned as Eliza continued reading from the tattered book she held in her hand.

"He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of living.

Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words, - `Wait and hope.'

Your friend,

Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte Cristo."

Eliza turned the page, but let out a startled yelp when Miranda pulled the book from her hands. "Hey!" The teenager laughed at Miranda's antics and attempted to snatch her book back.

"Shh, I want to read those lines again." Miranda replied in a surprisingly serious tone, causing Eliza to somber quickly. Eliza watched the teenager's eyes skim the lines with an intrigued expression. "All human wisdom is summed up in these two words - Wait and hope." Miranda read aloud with a perplexed look on her face.

Miranda continued to stare at the sentence, troubled by the words that were read. Miranda was bred to be genetically perfect, which included a superior intellect that rivaled a young Salarian, and yet, the meaning of these words eluded her. No, she corrected herself as she read the lines once more. They did not coincide with the principles that Father had taught her. To merely, wait and hope seemed cowardice and lazy; ingredients for failure. Miranda was trained to become the best through hard work and cunningness; she was not taught to simply wait and hope for things to come.

_It is a brutal world, Miranda, and if you are not the best than you are nothing. Survival of the fittest is exactly that: the best and fittest will survive and succeed. The rest are pawns to be conquered and used as means to an end. You are perfection, Miranda. So I expect perfection. Anything else means you are weak, and I have no use for weaknesses._

Those were the words that Father had told her when she had failed to perform well on a biotics test when she was three. Since then, Miranda had worked hard to gain her father's approval; obeying and enacting his every whim. She did not want to be weak and a failure; she wanted to be kept and be useful. She wanted..._needed_ a purpose.

Miranda's cobalt eyes glanced at the sentence once more. No. These words were wrong. Human wisdom – human perfection – was wrought through skill, hard work and success. She scoffed at the character's conclusion on life. After all his plans to get revenge, the Count had come to this conclusion? Miranda had admired the character, The Count of Monte Cristo, for his ingenious ploys to enact justice against those that had wronged him, but now, she felt a confused feeling of disappointment. She huffed. Why was she getting so invested in a stupid book; it meant nothing.

Miranda turned to return Eliza's book when she spotted the concerned expression etched on her lover's features. "What?" She asked, trying to avoid being analyzed; Eliza had the strange ability to see passed her barriers and defenses. Ever since she had met the woman who was a year senior than herself, Miranda's views and beliefs were becoming more askew; they were drifting from her father's principles. It was unnerving for her as it left her feeling lost and directionless, but nonetheless, it left her feeling…human. Though her views were changing and expanding, for once, Miranda felt secured and loved whenever she was with Eliza and she honestly did not know what to do about it.

Eliza did not respond immediately, opting to merely take the book back before sitting up properly and moving closer to Miranda as she stared out into the skyline. The silence was deafening and Miranda was left wondering about the woman's thoughts. What was that British girl thinking?

"You know why this book is my favorite?" Eliza's gentle voice finally broke the silence.

"Is it because Maximillian gets the girl and the Count finds some marginal happiness with Haydee?" Miranda asked, trying to ease the sudden nervous anxiety that she was feeling from Eliza's tone – she knew how much of a romantic Eliza was.

"No," Eliza began, still staring out into the sunset, "it's because after everything the Count did, he was still able to find forgiveness within himself. But not only that," She turned to look at Miranda with a knowing glint, "I enjoy the book's moral that God is the master of our fates, not man; that He controls it and we merely must do our best to find our destiny." Her blue eyes seemed to bear into Miranda's soul, "I like it, because we are more than what man dictates us to be."

Miranda felt immobilized as she realized what Eliza was telling her. _You are more than what your Father has made you to be._ Those were the hidden words that she was stating. It felt like an eternity until Eliza thought fit to release Miranda from her gaze. The perfected teenager immediately sought asylum from those knowing eyes by glancing away. What did Eliza see in her? Why couldn't she just accept the fact that her father owed and dictated her life? Why did she have to go and show her there was more? Why did Eliza make her fall in love with her?

In her musing, she felt Eliza's soft hand grip her own. "Miri, just wait and hope, okay? Once I turn eighteen and gain my inheritance, I'll take you away – he won't hurt you anymore; you'll be free." Eliza's eyes flickered to Miranda's abdomen, where a light scar was hidden underneath her clothing.

The lingering scar was all that was left of the surgery that had given Miranda her biotics when she was two years old. A price to pay for perfection, Miranda had once told Eliza, but the older woman disagreed. _What kind of man does that to his own child?_ Eliza had whispered back to her as she gently caressed the scar. It was the first time Miranda doubted her father's love for her and considered something beyond the life she was given. Eliza had done that. Eliza continued to do that as she showed Miranda a world her Father had never allowed her to see; one filled with warmth, affection, and absolute love without ulterior motives.

Miranda mentally shook those emotions away. She couldn't take the love and affection anymore; it was merely an illusion that would only end in hurting them both. Her father would see to it; he had taken everything else away. What made Eliza any different? She quickly retracted her hand from her lover and stood up. She responded with the only defense she knew: hostility. "What makes you think that I'm unsatisfied with my Father or my life? I've told you before, Eliza. I was made to ensure his legacy and to succeed him. I have a purpose."

Miranda could hear Eliza's graceful movements as she, too, stood. "Hey, don't do that." Eliza gripped her hand once more. "Don't spout out what he programmed you to say." Her voice was lined with irritation, a common occurrence, Miranda noticed, whenever they spoke of her father. "You're too good for him, Miranda. He has no right to command your life like some slave. You're his daughter, not a mannequin for him to move about as he wishes!"

Miranda inhaled roughly, trying to ignore Eliza's words and the warmth that coursed through her upon hearing them. Miranda's mind and heart were raging against one another. What purpose did she have without her father? Who was she? No one.

…But with Eliza...she felt…special. No, she had allowed Eliza to get in too close. She shouldn't want what Eliza offered – her father would disapprove and discard her if she deviated from him.

She shook her head, trying to fight the tears that she had stopped shedding since she was three. She had to end this, even if it meant hurting them both. "Don't make promises you can't keep." The words escaped Miranda's lips unbidden, leaving a startled look on the young woman's face. She had not meant to say that. That would encourage Eliza to pursue her, not drive her away! Her heart may have wanted to say it, but she knew in her head she shouldn't have!

"Have I ever made one that I haven't kept, Miri?" Miranda was unsure if she wanted to smack the grin that had developed in Eliza's voice or to embrace her for it.

"No." Miranda shook her head as the warmth in her heart increased. This woman was insufferable, but oh how, she loved her. She felt a trickle of wetness escape her eye as it trailed down her cheek. A warm hand gently wiped it away. She turned to face Eliza fully.

"I promise, Miri. I'll take you away from all of this. We'll go to London or Paris, or we can even live off-world – where you can study biochemistry to your heart's content and I can create better tech for the Alliance to use. With our capabilities, we can both put Humanity on the map and make a real difference!" Eliza's voice became more enthused as she spoke, making Miranda sport a soft smile; Eliza's passion was slowly chasing away her fears and doubts.

"Italy. I want to go to Italy. They have the best schools and museums there." Miranda whispered as she pulled Eliza close to her.

"Done deal." Eliza matched Miranda's volume, but added a smirk as she rested their foreheads together. She leaned in for a kiss and Miranda gladly reciprocated as if sealing the promise.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega/Normandy SR-2 – Executive Officer's Quarters**

**2185 CE**

Miranda stared at the tattered book in her hands as the memory of Eliza's promise echoed in her thoughts. Eliza was never able to keep her promise to whisk her away; her father had made sure of that. Miranda exhaled softly as she ignored the memory of the factory's explosion and the ache in the far recesses of her heart.

Shaking off the morbid memory, Miranda stood from the recliner in her room and headed back to the second-half of her quarters – the bedroom. She gingerly placed the book back onto her nightstand. She stared at it for another moment, her fingers lightly tracing the spine of the book, before she scoffed at her own behavior. Damn Shepard for making her think of the past! Damn her for taking Eliza away!

With a huff, Miranda returned back to the front of her room – the office portion – and stood before the window. She stared out into the stars and at Omega. They had arrived on the mining station a day ago. Miranda disliked this place, not just for the corruption and filth that resided on the station, but for the feelings that this placed conjured; she had always felt a sense of insecurity here. The whole place just disgusted her and yet, here they were, recruiting three individuals to their mission to defeat the Collectors; two of which, were now already employed.

The mercenary Zaeed Massani was found just out of their docking doors with his latest bounty; a beaten batarian. It was a rather quick conversation. Cerberus would pay Massani a handsome price and help him settle a debt with someone named Vido and in return, Massani would offer his services. It was a straight forward transaction; Shepard seemed reluctant to recruit the mercenary, but was not willing to turn down help against the Collectors. He would be joining them later in the evening as he had to deliver his bounty to his previous employer.

The latest recruit, Mordin Solus now resided in the Normandy's laboratory. The doctor, scientist, and former Special Task Group agent, was being given a tour of the Normandy at the moment. It wasn't a difficult task to recruit the good doctor, but Miranda had to admit, that the path in recruiting him was. They had discovered a good army of vorchas were helping the Collectors infect the non-human species through an airborne virus, and thereby, allowing the Collectors to have easier access to the humans on Omega. Why the Collectors were attacking humans, was still unsure, but Miranda refused to allow her race to be subjugated to them or the Reapers.

In any rate, Shepard (with the help of herself, Jacob, and Kasumi) had stopped the vorchas ploy in spreading the viral disease and Dr. Solus had agreed to help them on their mission. Needless to say, the Salarian was quite eccentric and energetic for the mission – which thrilled Shepard as the two chatted away about possible technical upgrades for the Normandy's lab.

Thinking of that virus, Miranda made a mental note to speak with the good doctor about a solution for the Collectors' method of attacking humans. For on Freedom's Progress they had discovered that the Collectors had used bug-like creatures to immobilize the humans before taking them away in pods. It would certainly be a challenging task for the Doctor and Miranda looked forward in working with him in overcoming it; she loved science.

Her mind drifted back to the book on her nightstand. She really had no idea why she kept it; she swore that life was over the moment she joined Cerberus, and yet, she would not dare part with it. It was the only thing that she had that belonged to Eliza; a reminder that those days, though painful to remember, existed. A weakness on her part, she guessed.

Miranda crossed her arms, a defensive gesture, as she realized that she had been thinking of Eliza more often as of late. She blamed Shepard for that. She glanced at the book once again, recalling Shepard's expression when she spotted it. Shepard had looked astonished, but had masked the emotion quickly. Miranda could not help feeling curious at the appearance of such an expression; the book held no significant meaning to the Commander.

Miranda shifted her weight onto her right leg as she continued to stare out into the stars. Actually, the whole conversation with Shepard had left her curious and confused on the woman's behavior.

**36 hours earlier**

Miranda had finally managed to finish writing her reports to the Illusive Man when she heard the faint hiss of her door being opened. Miranda was used to hearing her door open in the evening, as Yeoman Kelly Chambers or Jacob would come by and give her a report on the crew or supplies. In this particular case, she ignored the individual's presence – a usual occurrence – for a moment as she finished reading a report on the status of her sister until an unexpected voice interrupted.

"Miranda, do you have a minute?" The voice of Commander Shepard startled her and Miranda barely contained the emotion from escaping to her face.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" Miranda recovered herself as she gestured for Shepard to sit in the chair before her desk. Why would Shepard visit her? Then again, Miranda shouldn't be too surprised. Yeoman Chambers had mentioned that Shepard was taking the time to talk to each crew member since she had arrived on the Normandy. Miranda had found that revelation odd, as she remembered Shepard rarely caring about anyone but herself.

Miranda noticed how Shepard's gaze traveled about her room, taking in the woman's quarters before settling her green eyes on Miranda. "I know we haven't exactly gotten along since this mission started, Miranda, but I was hoping that could change." Shepard's voice was calm, but Miranda noticed that the Commander appeared fidgety in her chair; she would constantly tap her fingers on her knees or rub her arm. "Since we're working together, I was hoping you could tell me about Cerberus."

Miranda blinked. It seemed the Commander was making an effort to work with them now. Well, if that was the case, it was the least Miranda could do to allay any concerns or questions the Commander had. "Of course, if I can help alleviate any of your concerns about us, I'll be happy to; Cerberus isn't as evil as everyone is led to believe." Miranda replied and began to explain the organization and how it worked. Shepard listened intently and only asked a few questions, for which, Miranda readily answered.

"Do you trust the Illusive Man, Miranda?" Shepard inquired after they had discussed the inter-workings of Cerberus.

"I didn't get to where I am without knowing how to gauge people's motives and ambitions – even from brief encounters. The Illusive Man is no saint, Commander, he'd be the first to admit it, but he is committed to the preservation and advancement of humanity. Humanity couldn't have a better advocate." Miranda explained, "So yes, in essence, I do trust him."

Shepard paused in her inquiries and Miranda could tell that the woman was digesting her words thoroughly. Her next question surprised the Cerberus operative.

"Do you trust me?" She asked. What was Miranda to say to that? Her immediate answer would be 'No, she didn't', but that wouldn't exactly help them would it? The Illusive Man needed Shepard on their side at any cost. However, Miranda debated on the answer for another minute before deciding on speaking the truth; it would contradict her intentions to prove that Cerberus was not the devil.

"No." Miranda replied evenly and was even further surprised when Shepard nodded in acceptance.

"I figured as much." She sighed and Miranda could see disappointment in her eyes. A beat passed and the emotion was gone from her face. "Well then, shall we amend that? We're going to be working together, Miranda, on a mission that has a low probability of success. If we don't trust one another, then our probability will only decrease further; I would like to avoid dying again."

Miranda nodded. Shepard seemed to have gained some marginal intelligence since she joined the Alliance.

"So…tell me about yourself, Miranda. What have you been doing for the past nineteen years?" Shepard asked casually –too casually – Miranda observed. What was that woman after? And why did she even care? Miranda approached the question with caution; she never liked giving information about herself nor had she ever trusted Shepard to not have a hidden motive.

"Well, I suppose that is fair." Miranda began, debating on how much information to share, "after all, I spent the last two years learning everything there is to know about you."

"Doubtful." Shepard slipped in with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

Miranda raised an eyebrow at Shepard. "Is that so?" She asked, finding some odd amusement rise within her as the conversation turned a bit…playful. She always did like to prove others that she was right, especially if it was Shepard. It was an enjoyable challenge.

Shepard merely shrugged in response, but the amusement still flickered within her eyes. Miranda and Shepard stared at one another for a moment longer, before Miranda decided to pursue the challenge at later date; there was something unsettling in the Commander's gaze that made her feel flustered. She elected to escape by answering Shepard's questions.

"Well, you know that I've had some genetic modifications done; not my choice, but I make the most of it." Miranda continued as she shut off her computer terminal to give the Commander her undivided attention.

"Yes." Miranda's eyes flickered over to Shepard. The Commander's voice had an underlining tone that she could not place, but it sounded close to anger and her right hand seemed to be gripping her jeans.

Shepard knew that Miranda had modifications done to her genes, but never the true extent of how she received them. Only Eliza knew that her Father had created her and for what purpose, so the thought that Shepard was angry caused her curiosity to arise. Perhaps she was merely recalling her father's hand in Eliza's death…

"At any rate, because of my enhancements, I'm very good at just about anything I do; one of the reasons why the Illusive Man handpicked me for this project. It's my job to make sure you succeed." Miranda explained. She lifted her hand up and called upon her biotics; the dark energy glowing about her hand. "Not only do my skills reside in intelligence, but physically I'm superior in many ways. I heal quickly and I'll likely live half again as long as the average human." The glowing around her hand increased as she stared at it, heightening her perfect features as it gave additional light to the room. "My biotic abilities are also very advanced…for a human." She added with a small shrug before dismissing her power.

"Yes. I remember; you helped Eliza when her biotics were developing." Shepard's voice was barely above a whisper as Miranda noted that the Commander seemed to be recalling a distant memory. Miranda knew exactly which one.

The sudden silence left Miranda uncomfortable as it left her to think about Eliza once Shepard had mentioned her. To escape from the memories and away from thoughts of Eliza, Miranda maneuvered the conversation away from the sensitive topic. "I must say, Shepard, I am surprised that you've developed biotics as well."

The change of topic seemed to have startled Shepard. "Uh, yes, the Alliance found I had the potential when I was recruited…" Shepard responded, immediately interested in looking everywhere but at Miranda. How odd. One would think that Shepard would be boasting about her newfound power.

"Well, from what I've seen in vids, you're biotics could almost rival mine." Miranda coaxed Shepard from her rare humility.

"Almost, being the key word." Shepard replied in kind as she returned her gaze to Miranda. "I was impressed on Freedom's Progress." She admitted.

Miranda shrugged once more before standing from her seat. "They're designed to give me an edge, Shepard. Everything about me – my reflexes, intelligence, strength, even my looks." She gestured to herself.

"But you're still human." Shepard's comment stunned Miranda; she had not expected that reply. Miranda also noted that the comment sounded more of a statement rather than the abhorred question that most people would conclude.

Miranda couldn't help but let loose a bitter scoff as she thought about what her father had planned for her. "Yes. I'm still human. I still make mistakes like everyone else. And when I do, the consequences are severe. Everyone expects a lot from someone with my…abilities." Her voice had grown quiet as she contemplated the expectations Cerberus had for her. As she contemplated what her father had expected of her.

Shirking away from these lately frequent thoughts, Miranda regarded the Commander, noting once more the reflective feature that appeared when she absorbed information. "I think you and I have more in common than we thought." Shepard let out a wry smile.

Miranda considered her commander's words and implications before letting out a soft laugh. "Yes, I suppose in that aspect, we do."

"No pressure, right?" Shepard let out a soft chuckle and Miranda found herself laughing as well.

"None in the slightest, Commander." Miranda couldn't help the grin that appeared on her face as they lightly bantered with one another. There was something about Shepard that made her feel unnaturally at ease. It disturbed and puzzled her greatly. Was she not supposed to hate Shepard? How strange that that emotion could be clouded with one conversation…

Shepard seemed to consider speaking further, but appeared to have decided against it as she then reluctantly stood from her chair. "It's late and I've taken enough of your time, Miranda. I've enjoyed our conversation immensely, perhaps, I can stop by again and you can tell me what you've been up to?"

"Perhaps." Miranda replied with a smile; to her bewilderment she had enjoyed the conversation as well. Who knew they could hold a decent conversation without yelling at one another? Who knew that Shepard grew up? She glanced over at her clock; had they been talking for two hours? "Maybe I can even ask a question or two." She added, remembering Shepard's unspoken but playful challenge.

"It's only fair." Shepard smirked as she motioned to leave, but something had caught her eye, instantly changing her humored features to a quizzical one. Miranda followed Shepard's line of vision to her desk, where a raggedy book was placed – its cover barely recognizable after so many years of use. Miranda observed the strange expression on Shepard's face, but could not deduce anything from it. She was about to question Shepard, but the woman spoke first.

"Good night, Miranda. And thank you." She disarmed Miranda with a warm smile. "I hope this brings you a step closer to trusting me." She stated before motioning to exit her office.

"Good night, Commander." Miranda nodded her goodbye as she reflected on Shepard's admission.

Shepard suddenly paused half way out the door. "Miranda?" Shepard turned slightly, letting the operative view her profile.

"Yes, Commander?" A curious lit graced Miranda's voice and features.

"For the record, I think you're more than what you give yourself credit for; don't let anyone else tell you otherwise." Shepard relinquished a small smile before disappearing into the partially lit hallway.

Miranda was still staring at her door long after Shepard had left, desperately trying to comprehend the sudden warmth in her heart.

**Present**

Since their conversation, Miranda had found that she was able to work with Shepard more easily; their teamwork in the field had approved exponentially, they bantered more, and there were fewer disagreements. Of course, she was still on guard for that scrawny redhead to appear, but so far, Shepard had defied her expectations. However, it would take more than one decent conversation with the Commander to earn her trust and Miranda was surprised on how she looked forward to those future conversations.

How was it possible that Shepard could so easily dwindle nineteen years of animosity? Indeed, the emotion was there, but it was not as prominent as it was before. Perhaps, Miranda thought, that it was due to the fact that Shepard kept taking her ashore, where they were forced to place their lives in one another's hands and associate with one another; to learn to respect one another for their skills rather than their personality. Or, was this what she had heard about: Shepard's unnatural gift of charm that could place even the rachni at ease? Both were interesting theories. Miranda would still have much to contemplate; after all, they had only gone on two missions with one another. Further studies must be rendered before Miranda could come to a proper conclusion on her sudden decrease of hate.

_Operative Lawson. _ EDI's voice spoke through her office speakers, disrupting the executive officer's ponderings.

"Yes, EDI?" Miranda inquired, wondering what the AI required.

_Commander Shepard requests your assistance in retrieving Archangel. She asks that you meet her and Ms. Goto at the docking doors in thirty minutes. _ EDI relayed the Commander's message.

"Inform the Commander that I will be there." Miranda replied, finding herself ecstatic at the prospect of not only going in the field, but also deriving more field tests to determine the accuracy of her theories.

_Yes, Operative Lawson. Logging you out._

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega**

Miranda ground her teeth in frustration as she ducked behind the balcony's wall. Her blue eyes darted over to the turian sniper next to her before flickering back to her own Carnifex pistol. She was running out of thermal clips…

_Where the bloody hell is Shepard?!_

Miranda shot up from her position and unloaded five more rounds on the small Blood Pack army. She sneered as she returned back to her covered position while the sound of loud concussive rounds exploded from her partner's weapon.

Miranda had to admit that Shepard had the knack of attracting the most strenuous and worst case scenarios for her missions. After all, how else could they be found in this situation? Where not one of the most deadly mercenary gangs were shooting at them, but all three: the Blood Pack, Eclipse, and Blue Suns. She ground her teeth again. Perhaps it wasn't entirely Shepard's fault. Her gaze darted back to the turian. It was his. Garrus Vakarian. Also known as Archangel. He had to go and be a bloody hero and piss them all off.

Miranda darted from her position to secure herself behind a large pillar. She perched herself out and fired at an unsuspecting human that was trying to make way into their building. Her enhanced hearing caught wind of a whooshing sound to their left.

"Rocket! Down!" Miranda ordered Garrus, who was easily taking out the shields of their enemies below with his sniper rifle. The turian complied, both of them watching as a small missile whizzed past their heads and destroyed the couch behind them instead.

Garrus placed a talon hand on his ear. "Shepard, they're getting more aggressive here! We can't hold this point for much longer." He radioed the Commander and Miranda could not help but wonder how easily it was for Garrus to trust Shepard. It was astounding, really, how quick those two became reacquainted. Shepard was ecstatic when they found out that Archangel was really Garrus – her right hand man on her fight against Saren. Miranda had read that Garrus had disappeared six months after Shepard's death. Who knew that he had come to Omega, started his own team, and became one of the most hated vigilantes among all the mercenaries in the area?

Another rocket launched above them, jarring Miranda out of her quick musings. Shepard had better hurry. She glanced over at Garrus, who glanced back at her as well. They shared a silent sentiment. They were running out of ammo. Miranda gave the turian a curt nod, recalling Shepard's words right before she left her with Garrus.

_Keep him safe, Miranda._

Miranda recalled the feeling of apprehension the moment Shepard had said those words. It wasn't the words that unnerved her, but the way she had looked at her and the way she had said them. It was as if Shepard _trusted_ her. It reminded her of the first premature awakening of Shepard. The woman was thrashing about and Miranda was trying to calm her. It finally happened after they had given her the second dose of sedatives. Shepard's eyes not only showed recognition, but complete trust. It had surprised Miranda, just as it had now.

Her thoughts reflected on her conversation with Shepard the night before. Shepard had implied that she trusted Miranda already, but how was that possible? They _hated _one another when they were teenagers and she definitely didn't give a warm impression when Shepard finally woke. How was it possible that Shepard trusted her so readily with her best friend?

_Keep him safe, Miranda._

She didn't know how she felt about that implication of trust and she didn't have further time to contemplate or analyze it when she switched her pistol to her submachine gun; she could hear more enemies approaching. However, Miranda was going to make damn well sure that Turian wasn't going to get killed on her watch.

Garrus returned her nod with his own – both agreeing to fire together. It was funny how well the two could work together; their skills seemed to balance one another. Perhaps her first theory did ring true: you tend to trust the person next to you more in a life and death situation. Mentally taking note of this field test, Miranda popped out of cover with Garrus. They both fired as the swarm of Blood Pack members and some Blue Suns came stampeding down the narrow bridge that led to their position.

Not wanting to waste ammo, Miranda momentarily resorted to the use of her biotics. Her body flared until an eerie, but elegant glow of blue shrouded her whole body. She called upon her dark energy and unleashed it upon a small group that thought huddling together would be a good tactical plan. _Pathetic._ Miranda thought as she commanded a warp around them, damaging them enough that she could easily pick them out with her own weapon. However, despite that move, the enemy continued to advance until Miranda had to move toward the hallway to attack.

Miranda glanced down at her omni-tool, where she had set a timer. It had been eight minutes and thirty-five seconds since Shepard and Kasumi went to stop the other mercenaries from breaking in from the lower levels. From what Garrus had explained about Shepard's task and layout, Miranda had calculated that it would take only a total of nine minutes and fifteen seconds for Shepard to close those shutter doors to prevent any enemies from entering. So unless they had encountered heavy resistance, Shepard should be here soon.

"ARCHANGEL!" A deep rumble was heard in the lower section of the apartment they had been hiding in. Miranda and Garrus exchanged an exasperated look. Miranda wasn't one to panic, but by the look of the Krogan that had bellowed at Garrus, she wasn't too sure that they had enough fire power to take that thing out.

_Where the bloody hell was she?!_

"Shepard, they made it inside. Now would be a good time to do what you do best…" Garrus informed through his radio as he placed his last thermal clip into his sniper rifle.

"I'll overload his shields while you take him out." Miranda instructed as she began pressing commands into her omni-tool to short circuit the large Krogan's shields; he had armor on, so Garrus' weapon would better penetrate than her submachine gun.

The two went quick to work – Garrus stationed on the balcony while Miranda moved further inside to guard the stairs. As the two worked, the Krogan – a battlemaster by the look of his armor – maneuvered his way further up the stairs. Miranda was too occupied by the cannon fodder of vorchas to hinder him as much as she wished – she managed to take out only his shields -, forcing her to move back into the main room with Garrus as the Krogan made it up the stairs.

"Shepard! Anytime now!" Garrus called into his comm link.

"You're mine Archangel!" The Krogan gnarled out as he entered the room.

"Not if I kill you first, Garm." Shepard's voice echoed over the Krogan's roar as she bounded into the room, firing from her dual pistols at the armored Krogan.

Miranda noted the beads of sweat on Shepard's forehead and deduced that she had run all the way back; since the Commander's reconstruction, it took a lot to get her tired, let alone worked up. She also noted the angry scowl on her Commander's face.

Kasumi trailed in behind Shepard, firing at some vorchas behind her with her own submachine gun. She seemed to be panting, but it was hard to tell with the woman's hood covering her face.

Garm – who Miranda now recognized as the leader of the Blood Packs – charged at Shepard with an angry bellow as if the gunfire were mere nuisances.

"Krogan charging!" Miranda warned Shepard and was surprised when the Commander refused to move out of the way. "Shepard!" Miranda cried out just as said woman finally moved…right at Garm.

Miranda's eyes widened as she felt herself drawn to watch the Commander run at the Battlemaster. Shepard's face turned passive as she quickly holstered one pistol and jumped into the air, flipped over Garm's massive body, and gripped onto the Krogan's head plate with her free hand. She hung right above the Krogan's face.

Everyone in the room was stunned at Shepard's dexterous display, especially at what came next. With her pistol-equipped hand, Shepard pointed it at Garm's exposed face. "Don't mess with my friends." She snarled out before firing an entire clip into the Krogan's head.

A mixture of a pained gurgle and scream escaped Garm's lips as the Krogan collapsed to the ground. Shepard jumped off Garm, but not before adding a few more rounds into the Krogan's hearts to make sure he was dead; they're regenerative system could easily turn the tide of battle.

Shepard stared at the body of Garm while everyone else just stared at Shepard. It was Garrus who recovered first. "About time, Shepard."

"What? You telling me that you couldn't handle a few measly krogans and vorchas whilst I was away?" Shepard teased back. Miranda wasn't fooled – Shepard was attempting to cover her sudden hostility with humor.

"They had bigger guns." Garrus huffed in playful defense.

Shepard rolled her eyes and Garrus chuckled. "Look what I got you." Shepard dug into one of the pouches on her waist and pulled out thermal clips. "Found this while we were down there." She tossed them to Garrus. "Sniper rounds." She explained as Garrus caught the clips. She dug into another pouch and tossed three bound clips at Miranda. "I found some for you too." She replied as she avoided eye contact with her.

"Thank you." Miranda found herself saying. She was still trying to process Shepard's behavior. Of course she read that Shepard was protective of her team, but it still surprised her. This Shepard was really not like the one she met all those years ago…

"Well, that was a bit melodramatic, Shep, but it got it done, I guess." Kasumi finally spoke as she kicked the dead Krogan with her boot. "Though, I got to say, I much prefer to see you use your biotics! You could have made him fly like that vorcha." Kasumi chuckled as she recalled the image, but quickly sobered up when she made eye contact with Miranda.

Miranda couldn't help the incredulous (if a bit jealous) glare that appeared on her face. She had been with Shepard on every mission and hadn't even witnessed her biotics! And the moment she gets paired away, Shepard decides to demonstrate her skills! What. The. Hell?

Miranda directed her glare at Shepard, who seemed to continue to avoid looking at her, when the woman spoke. "Maybe next time." She gave a weary smile before getting them back to the task at hand…or as Miranda saw it…running away. "We still have the Blue Suns to worry about. I'm going to make sure they're not plotting anything downstairs…" She trailed off and Miranda was left wondering more and more on Shepard's unorthodox behavior.

Garrus nodded at Shepard's retreating back before scoping out the bridge with his sniper rifle. "We got incoming hostiles." Garrus declared through their comms and Miranda instantly went to help Garrus provide suppressive fire as Kasumi and Shepard attacked from below.

The strategy worked until more and more mercenaries appeared, making Shepard switch tactics as they were overwhelmed down below. "Miranda, get down here – they're propelling off the sides and into the lower levels."

"Roger that." Miranda replied and gave Garrus a quick look. The turian let loose an understanding nod before Miranda disappeared downstairs to help contain the situation below.

Minutes passed before all was silent once more. It was an unsettling feeling. The calm before the storm, some would say. Miranda glanced over at Shepard. The woman was biting her lip as if she was in deep thought…the gesture looked oddly familiar. As if sensing her stare, Shepard finally made eye contact. "Something's not right." Shepard frowned as she voiced Miranda's sentiment.

The three women drew quiet once more when they heard a whirling sound. Miranda's eyes darted over to Shepard in realization. Shepard seemed to realize it at the same time and both took off up the stairs as fast as they were able, while Kasumi trailed behind, wondering what was going on.

The whirling sound became louder and louder until a booming voice shouted over a speaker system.

"ARCHANGEL!" The speaker shouted, followed by rapid machine fire. "YOU THINK YOU CAN MESS WITH THE BLUE SUNS?!" Miranda recognized the voice. It was Tarak - the batarian leader of the Blue Suns.

Shepard and Miranda skidded into the room to see a gunship rapidly firing at Garrus. The turian was hidden behind a scorched couch, reloading his rifle with a determined gleam in his eyes.

Shepard motioned to get into the room before Miranda tackled her against the door's adjacent wall. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Miranda hissed as more gunfire covered the apartment. "Wait!"

"THIS ENDS NOW!" Tarak, the Blue Suns' leader shouted over the speakers.

"We need to get in there!" Shepard tossed her pistols aside and retrieved her assault rifle. She pushed Miranda aside just as Garrus snapped out of cover to fire at the gunship.

It all happened quickly. Miranda screamed for Shepard to stay in cover. A loud whisking sound erupted from the gunship. Shepard screamed for Garrus to take cover. Garrus yelled out in pain as a rocket exploded in front of his face, knocking him backwards and into the wall.

"GARRUS!"

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega/Normandy SR-2 – Captain's Quarters**

Miranda entered Shepard's quarters after the third time of asking for admittance and being denied. Not one to be ignored, Miranda overrode the door's locks with her executive officer codes and strolled into Shepard's cabin, or informally known as the Loft by those that had designed the spacious room.

Miranda's eyes did a quick scan of the room. The desk was barren save for the terminal consoles there; no sign of activity there. Her eyes turned toward the casing that surrounded the desk. It appeared that Shepard had found two model ships to place in it thus far. She continued her search for Shepard by heading down the few steps into the living area. The large empty fish tank to her right, gurgled as she stepped down into the lower part of Shepard's room. It seemed the fish Shepard had bought on the Citadel had died.

Miranda gazed to her left where the L-shaped sofa was located, along with a coffee table that was covered with data pads. The brunette sighed. It looked like Shepard preferred the couch than her desk. Her attention turned to the empty made bed. Where was Shepard?

She turned around and glanced back up the steps to the open door to the washroom. Her heels made soft clicking noises as she walked back up the two steps of stairs, deducing where Shepard must be.

"You know, when someone doesn't answer the door that usually means they wish to be alone." Shepard's voice echoed from inside the bathroom.

"Does it? And here I thought you were just avoiding me." Miranda countered as she leaned against the open door, watching Shepard stare at herself in the mirror. Shepard's response was merely the tightening of her jaw. Miranda studied the Commander as she leaned over the sink, staring at the thin, glowing scars that covered her face. "Dr. Chakwas is nearly finished with the surgery." Miranda crossed her arms as she continued to observe Shepard.

Shepard still remained silent.

"It isn't your fault, Commander. You couldn't have anticipated what was going to happen." Miranda watched her, trying to figure out Shepard's thoughts.

Shepard's jaw tightened more as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror.

"Dr. Chakwas assures me that he'll live; we managed to get him to the Normandy in time." Miranda assured, feeling the irritable waves flowing from her commander.

"He could have died!" Shepard finally spoke.

"He didn't." Miranda easily countered as she watched Shepard's profile darken.

"But he could have!" Shepard seethed out, clenching the corners of the sink.

"You did everything you could, Shepard. Garrus will live. The Blood Pack, the Blue Suns and the Eclipse have been heavily crippled thanks to you. The mission was a success." Miranda couldn't fathom the anger that was steaming off of Shepard. Missions go awry. The best they could do was to adapt and act accordingly. They did so and succeeded. What more was there?

"Garrus _almost_ died, Miranda!" Shepard finally tore her gaze away from the mirror. "I _almost_ got him killed!"

Miranda's brow furrowed in confusion as she processed Shepard's words. "If I recall, the gunship was the one that fired that rocket, not you."

"I put him in that position. I should have made sure that someone else was there to cover him!" Shepard nearly shouted as she slammed a fist onto the metallic sink.

"You made a tactical choice that ensured our survival, Commander." Miranda made sure that she made eye contact with Shepard. Her commander needed to understand this. "You did the right thing."

"Did I?" Shepard spat out. "I would have _never_ left Garrus to fend for himself."

Again, a confused expression appeared on Miranda's face. "What are you talking about?" If Shepard hadn't called her down, they would have been overwhelmed and killed in a matter of minutes. Shepard knew this, so what was the real issue?

Shepard clenched her jaw and rubbed the scars that ran along her right forearm before speaking. "Before…I would have never done that. I wouldn't have left a member of my squad alone." Shepard sighed, seemingly defeated as she gazed back into the mirror. "_I_ wouldn't have done that; I don't sacrifice people." She growled out.

_Ah._ Miranda finally understood. "You didn't, Shepard. You're still you. You didn't leave Garrus alone. You made sure that we all survived by making the best tactical choice in our situation. You're still you." Miranda assured.

Shepard's shoulders sagged and Miranda was amazed on how tired she looked. When was the last time Shepard had slept? "How can you be so sure?" Miranda watched as Shepard took a tentative hand to brush the orange glowing scar on her left cheek. "How can I be sure that I'm not some clone? That my actions aren't dictated by the Illusive Man?" She demanded.

"Because, Shepard," Miranda uncrossed her arms and wandered further into the bathroom. She stopped when she was in a close, but respectful distance from Shepard. "I do damn good work." Miranda smirked and wondered to herself why she felt so invested in comforting Shepard. Usually she would enjoy watching the woman squirm, but she supposed she was beginning to understand that this Shepard was different. But still, that did not mean she had forgiven her for her hand in Eliza's death. No, she was doing this because it was her job. The Illusive Man wanted Shepard appeased so that she could help them. Yes…that was why she was doing it…not because of something Eliza had told her years ago…

Shepard scoffed in disbelief. "Confident as ever."

"Look, Shepard, I know this is all different," Again, why was she doing this? Was it because of their conversation before? "But believe me, you are you. The Illusive Man wanted you back exactly as you were…are. We did our best to ensure that happened. You may have upgrades here and there, but your core is the same. You are still the one in control – the one that dictates your own actions and destiny; that is why we need you to be you."

Shepard seemed to ponder her words as she dropped her hand down and placed them back on the sink. Miranda watched as the woman bit her lip as she processed their conversation. Believing that the conversation was settled, the Cerberus operative turned to leave.

"Thanks Miranda." Shepard's voice forced the operative to turn around, what greeted her was not what she expected.

"You're welcome, Shepard." Miranda forced out a polite smile as she mentally tried to hide the shock she had felt when she found warmth in her Commander's eyes that she had not seen in a very long time. She quickly escaped back to her room, trying to calm her raging heart. For a moment there, Miranda could have sworn she felt the warmth of Eliza cascading upon her.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Merry Christmas! **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter! As you can see, this chapter is geared toward Miranda's view. I'll being doing that a bit - alternating points of view from time to time. I hope I did Miranda justice...probably not, but it was interesting to write. Please let me know if you see any grammatical errors or have comments on how I can better deliver the story. **

**Thanks for all the reviews, follows, alerts, and by simply reading. **

**See you all in the New Year!**


	5. Chapter 4-Bring Me To Life

**Chapter 4 – Bring Me to Life**

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb  
Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold  
Until you find it there and lead it back home._

_(Wake me up) Wake me up inside_  
_(I can't wake up) Wake me up inside_  
_(Save me)_  
_Call my name and save me from the dark_  
_(Wake me up) Bid my blood to run_  
_(I can't wake up) Before I come undone_  
_(Save me)_  
_Save me from the nothing I've become._

_Evanescence – Bring Me to Life_

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega/Normandy SR-2 – Captain's Quarters**

**2185 CE**

The quiet hiss of the loft's doors sounded making Miranda's absence and exit more prominent. Shepard sighed as she continued to lean against the bathroom sink. She had forgotten how insecure Miranda felt about emotions. She had forgotten that she was a different person now; she had no right to openly gaze at Miranda in such a loving way. No doubt she either scared or pissed the operative off.

Shepard sighed once more as she rubbed her temple. She held so many secrets now and she was tired of it. She gazed up at the reflection in the mirror.

"Who am I?" She asked her reflection. "It's been so long that I've forgotten…" She muttered as she regarded the woman in the mirror, knowing that it would never answer her back.

_You may have upgrades here and there, but your core is the same. You are still the one in control – the one that dictates your own actions and destiny; that is why we need you to be you._

Shepard could not help the smile that emerged as she thought of those words. Miranda had attempted to comfort her in her moment of doubt. If it had been any other operative for Cerberus, Shepard would have thought they were just trying to appease her; trying to make sure that their pet project was working and happy, however, it was the way Miranda had looked and spoke to her that convinced her; it was sincere. So she believed her. She had come back from the dead.

The thought should have been a comforting one; she was alive. She studied her face once more, ignoring the scars that glowed lightly, and concentrated on her eyes as if searching for something to prove who she was. Green eyes stared back at her.

Shepard was still Shepard.

She was still _her. _

Shepard growled out in anger and slammed a fist into the mirror, cracking it. "Bloody hell!" She cried out in both anger and pain as she realized what she had done. "Damn it." She had allowed her emotions to get the better of her. She bowed her head and allowed a single tear to escape her face.

She didn't want to be _her_ anymore.

**Location: Local Cluster/Sol System/Earth/Australia – Brisbane**

**2166 CE**

The soft hue of the setting sun drifted into the massive ballroom of Hawke Manor, creating a warm atmosphere of safety and comfort as its occupants entered for the evening festivities. A lulling melody fashioned by a harp and piano flowed throughout the room while guests mused and mingled with one another about their luxuries and business adventures, but most of all, about the extravagant party in which they had found themselves in.

It had been years since the prestige Hawke family had rendered an elaborate party for the high standing individuals in the galactic community, so it was quite a surprise when invitations were sent. None would question their absence in the elite scene as the story was well known; gossiped in sympathetic hushed voices, for one did not simply discuss such a thing in polite company.

As it were, it had been over three years since the Hawke family had indulged in the social scene, and so, many were speculating at the sudden emergence. The elite rumor mill hazarded that the young Hawke heiress was emerging as the head of Hawke Industries thus taking over the multi-billion dollar corporation and its assets. Others, more practical of the leaders, conjured that the current CEO, Howard Hawke, was unveiling new technology after their three years of hibernation. It was for these main reasons that Henry Lawson had accepted the invitation for tonight's gala and where his daughter, Miranda, had found herself boorishly speaking with some exclusive fashion designer from Milan.

Dressed in a sophisticated blue cocktail dress, Miranda feigned interest in her conversation until her cobalt eyes made contact with those of her father. His eyes demanded her presence. Immediately. Not one to disobey him, Miranda flashed the designer a brilliant smile and apologetically (her inner sentiments dictated otherwise) excused herself. Making way toward her father, Miranda could not help but smirk at the multiple eyes that ogled and gawked at her figure as she strolled by – young, old, male and female were powerless against her perfected appearance. It was a fact that she had come to terms with and one that she used to her advantage when needed.

Miranda was the epitome of human perfection, even at her blooming age of sixteen. She was created and designed by her father for the sole purpose of creating a dynasty of absolute perfection and immortality. With the best money and education surrounding her, Miranda was disciplined in the world of knowledge as well as the world of politics and war. A symbol of Humanity, her Father had informed her, was to have no limitations and no weaknesses.

Born and bred into this mindset, Miranda pushed herself to please and excel in her father's vision- for she knew nothing else and never comprehended beyond the existence than that of what her father allowed her to have. She had purpose (and she was kept) if she did what she was told and expected.

Miranda quickly made way to her father, knowing that he was an incredibly impatient man. She smiled politely at those she passed, eyes scanning her surroundings and mentally cataloging it within her complex mind. She had yet to see the host and hostess, for they had disappeared after the guests had entered the ballroom. Miranda passed by a member of the Hawke Industries' board, who was lecherously staring at her form. She simply ignored him. She had already dissected his brain for any information regarding the night's event; he was no more of use to her.

Although Miranda's image had been compared to some divine being or another, the young teen rarely outright used her feminine physique to obtain what she wanted. No, Miranda would not demean herself by using that route unless absolutely needed. It was her intelligence that she prided herself with and she would use it unceasingly to manipulate or calculate into getting what she needed for her father. Everything she did was to benefit her father in some way or another.

Tonight was no different.

"Miranda." Her father, Henry, acknowledged her as he stepped away from the discussion he had been engaged in. Though at the age of forty-nine, Henry Lawson had the physique and characteristics of a man in his late twenties, and never looked worn and weaned down by his age. He had a commanding and overbearing presence that would make anyone consider twice whenever speaking with him. Immaculately dressed in a fine Armani suit – never an alien designer, for he detested everything associated with anything that was not human – he addressed his daughter as he began to circumvent the ballroom.

"What have you learned?" He asked as they maneuvered about the guests, keeping his voice even to avoid any unwanted attention.

"From what I have gathered, Father, Hawke Industries plans to renovate their whole enterprise. As you know, for years they have prided themselves in developing advanced, but affordable skycars and medical equipment." Miranda spotted a passing waiter and deftly removed a champagne glass from his service tray – to look natural of course – before continuing. "The gentleman in which I divulged the information from has let it slip that the industry has recently purchased Nashan Steller Dynamics." She paused, allowing her father to digest the information. He was almost as smart as she was…almost.

Henry was quiet for a moment as he assimilated the information. "They are renowned for making parts for starships." He commented. "Tell me, my daughter, what does that mean to you?" He posed and Miranda instantly knew he was testing her. Did he honestly believe that she had not deduced the reason for this event?

"They are expanding into the galactic realm. I have no doubt that they have contracted themselves to either the System Alliance or another military or space privateer. With humanity earning an ambassador seat in the Citadel, a whole new market in starships and travel is about to be boosted." She revealed her theory to her father. "No doubt they have already invested in the technology; else they would not have invited such a wide range of guests, otherwise known, as investors."

"Very good, Miranda." Her father issued a rare praise for his engineered daughter.

Miranda could not help the swell of acceptance to warm her; her father was not an affectionate man. Her face remained passive, as she knew that her father would be displeased if she remotely broadcasted any sentiment. He had once told her a small parable of two men stuck in cave because of an ice storm. These two men had only one blanket to survive the chilly night – a blanket that could only cover one grown man. Who would survive, he had asked her, a man that took what he needed or a man who gave it away?

_To survive, you must take what you need. Emotions and sentiments make a man weak, Miranda; it gives someone else power if you show it. Never show your true hand. Never be weak. _

This was a difficult lesson for Miranda to learn when she was younger. It would certainly be a surprise for any that truly knew Miranda Lawson. She was considered cold and aloof at the age of sixteen and it was incredibly difficult to imagine her without that serious scowl on her face. However, it was true. Miranda had once been a happy child. Her father had quickly rectified that weakness before she turned the age of two.

"Now that we have an idea of what is going on. I believe we can react accordingly; after all, Lawson Enterprises is meant to be the spearhead of Humanity, not Hawke Industries." Henry calmly stated as his eyes flickered over to the north end stairwell, causing Miranda to gaze over.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please." A humble looking chamberlain addressed the crowd as he stood at the base of the lavish stairwell. "It is my pleasure," The chamberlain began after the guests had quieted, "to present to you, Sir Howard Hawke and his niece, Lady Eliza Hawke." The chamberlain bowed as he lifted his right arm in an upward gesture toward the top of the staircase.

A tall male, dressed in a handsome dark grey suit, slowly descended the stairs with a charming smile. On his right, a teenaged woman – dressed in a dark green, form-fitting backless dress – stepped beside him with perfected ease. Her smile seemed genuine as she descended, but Miranda knew that smile all too well, having sported it herself often – the young woman was bored out of her mind and a bit annoyed, if the subtle cues in her body indicated; Lady Hawke may have placed her hand upon her uncle's for support, but her body seemed to extend as far away from him as it could without raising any suspicion.

Miranda continued to observe the two Brits, trying to gather any information that she may be able to use, when the young Hawke made eye contact with her. Miranda could not explain the sudden jolt of energy that shivered through her as their eyes connected. It was an odd feeling that made Miranda want to avert her gaze, for it was as if this woman was scrutinizing into her soul; it was unsettling. Proud as she was, Miranda refused to be subjugated by her emotions and continued to stare into the eyes of a woman that resonated far more than she appeared to. Her resilience rewarded into a small, smug triumph as Lady Hawke broke contact first as she reached the bottom of the ballroom floor.

The two Hawkes finally stopped at the bottom of the stairwell as the guests politely applauded their appearance.

"Thank you all for coming," Howard Hawke began, "I assure you that my niece and I are thrilled for you to be here." He broadly smiled at them all. "Of course, I know you are all wondering why you are here." He stepped forward to address them all fully. "As most of you are no doubt aware, Hawke Industries has been quite silent these past few years, after all, with the loss of my dear brother and sister-in-law – may they rest in peace," He made a dramatic pause; a tactic, Miranda noticed to gain sympathy from the crowd, "the company has not been the same. However, tonight, I am here to introduce a new era to you all; a new beginning that will cultivate not only Hawke Industries to its former glory, but Humanity as well.

As humanity is gaining recognition amongst the stars, Hawke Industries is invested to lead the charge. With our various sister companies, we are hereby announcing our involvement with the System Alliance in developing advanced starships that will not only enable us to travel further into space, but place us as even rivals to that of the Turians!" Howard exclaimed as a flood of amazement spread amongst the guests.

"And it is even with more pleasure, that I announce my dear niece Eliza's involvement as one of the key designers in our technical department." He turned a loving gaze at Eliza. "She exhibits not only the intelligence of her father, but the creativity and beauty of her mother." A wave of "aws" echoed within the ballroom and Eliza's lips twitched into a smile at her uncle's praise. Miranda knew better – Howard Hawke was playing the crowd through his niece and she was not pleased with it.

"This is a night for celebration as we journey into a new technological generation. So join me, ladies and gentlemen, join me in this new frontier as Hawke Industries flies into the future!"

A burst of applause erupted as Howard Hawke grabbed a champagne flute for a toast. The guests followed their host's example as they excitedly discussed this new predicament. "To the future!" He proclaimed and the audience repeated with superb glee.

Sir Hawke took a small sip of his glass before setting a charming smile at his guests. "Now thank you again for coming! Enjoy the party!" He exclaimed before immersing himself into a wave of supposed benefactors. The guests clapped and stirred at this new revelation, but above all the noise, Miranda only heard her father's command:

"Befriend Lady Hawke and get me those plans."

**Location: Omega Nebula/Fathar System/Lorek – Eclipse Base**

**2185 CE**

"I AM KROGAN!" A massive roar erupted above the sounds of gunfire.

"Grunt!" Shepard yelled out at the young Krogan that was now trying to ram his massive head into an Eclipse trooper. "Dammit Grunt! Get back into cover!" She shouted into her comm link before adding suppressive fire with her dual pistols. She quickly rolled behind a crate, trying to advance herself to the Krogan. She growled in frustration as she reloaded her right Carnifex pistol. That new recruit was going to get an earful once this was over.

Shepard's peripheral caught movement to her right and the soldier could not help but glance toward it. Miranda had just moved to another crate beside her. They locked gazes and Shepard could not only see, but feel the smugness that radiated off of her second-in-command.

_I told you so._ Miranda's eyes communicated.

Shepard huffed in denial, which only caused Miranda's smugness to broaden its radius.

"Incoming combat drone!" Garrus' voice crackled through their communications, forcing Shepard to concentrate on the floating blue ball that began to shoot at them. She adjusted her position before reaching one arm out and firing at the drone.

"Zaeed! Cover Grunt!" Shepard seethed out in exasperation, trying to block out Miranda's pervious words about the Krogan. "Garrus, get rid of the leader. Miranda! Take out his shields!" Shepard barked out her orders. "Kasumi, on me. We're taking out that stupid engineer." She finished taking out the drone before rolling behind another crate.

The squad produced affirmative comments and quickly enacted their assignments. Grunt was still raging about the room, much to Shepard's irritation. "Grunt! Get back into cover or I'll shoot you myself!" She glanced back at the still smug Miranda.

"I know!" Shepard groaned out to her as their conversation came into mind.

"_Commander, are you sure it's wise to open that tank? We have no idea on the repercussions; that Krogan may well be a psychopath." Miranda warned Shepard as they stood before a large cylinder tank in the cargo hold. _

"_Wise? Probably not." Shepard smirked at her XO before walking up to the tank's controls. _

"_Commander…" Miranda shifted a step backwards, her hand wavering over the pistol that was holstered on her hip. She was definitely against this course of action. _

"_Miranda." Shepard turned her torso to face her. "Relax. Besides, aren't you curious?"_

"_No." Miranda pursed her lips together. "When we went to Korlus, I expected to recruit Okeer, not a Krogan that we know nothing about." _

"_Okeer sacrificed his life for this guy, Miranda. Give him a chance. Why should he be condemned for simply existing? We should at least give him an opportunity to live." Shepard gestured to the tank. _

"_He's a Krogan, Shepard. Krogans are violent and unpredictable – more so for this one." She gestured at the tank with a flick of her wrist. "He's practically a newborn in a full grown body. We have no idea how he'll react once you…birth him…" Miranda's face scrunched up at the idea of unleashing the Krogan from its tank. _

"_It'll be fine." Shepard continued to wave off Miranda's concern. "I've worked with krogans before – I can handle them." Miranda rolled her eyes at the Commander's aloofness. "Besides, if worse comes to worse, we'll handle it the usual way." She tapped the pistol on her side before turning back to the computer console. _

"_I still advise against this." Miranda took another step back as Shepard began punching in the codes to open the tank. Her hand was now clenching her pistol's handle as she prepared for the worse. Of course Shepard had to ignore her warnings and try her luck with any dangerous thing they find. Typical._

"_Noted." Shepard hummed out as she finished punching in the codes that were given to her by Okeer. "Besides, Miranda, I think you of all people could relate to him – who better to help out the Perfect Krogan than the Perfect Woman?" Shepard beamed at Miranda before slamming her index finger on the "Enter" button, effectively opening the tank. She turned away before seeing the death glare that formed on Miranda's face. _

_The gurgling of water soon occupied both women's attention as the tank began its protocol of opening. Shepard watched as the water that surrounded the Krogan began to flush out and into four side canisters. Once the water was flushed, the glass that separated the Krogan from the physical world began to lower itself, exposing the full bred Krogan. _

_Shepard took a cautious step forward while Miranda gripped her pistol tighter. They both watched as the Krogan's eyes slowly opened. The creature spluttered out some water and blinked in his surroundings. _

"_My name is…"Shepard began to introduce herself when, without warning, the Krogan roared and charged at Shepard, slamming her into the ship's bulkhead while gripping her neck; effectively pinning her there. _

Shepard hissed in pain as she was struck in the shoulder and thigh by concussive rounds. She staggered backwards and twirled her body behind a pillar before she could get hit by another round. She cursed at herself. She distracted herself by thinking of Grunt's birth. She glanced down at her hardsuit's HUD – her shields were reduced to forty-five percent. She was lucky it was only her shields.

"Shep!" Kasumi cried out as she elegantly flipped over some stacked crates, shooting at the Eclipse leader with her submachine gun in midflight, before rolling onto her shoulder and behind a small desk with Miranda.

"I'm okay; my shields are still intact." Shepard assured before continuing her onslaught against the engineer.

"Scratch one!" Garrus proclaimed happily as he finally took down the leader.

"They're scrambling!" Miranda noted through comms as she warped the engineer once she had finished helping Garrus with the apparent squad leader.

"Keep pressing forward!" Shepard ordered as she leaned out of cover to take out the engineer.

The team continued their assault until all enemies were eliminated. The room grew quiet, save for the Krogan that kept crowing about their victory. Enraged at the lack of obedience, Shepard stomped her way over to Grunt.

_The krogan's breath was nauseating – it reminded Shepard of raw fish – and yet, Shepard still managed to stare into his reptile-like eyes with a straight face. She spotted Miranda move, pistol drawn, but quietly waved for her to stand down. She wanted to see what this krogan would do. Shepard stealthily moved her right fingers downward toward her pistol – just in case. _

_The krogan stared down Shepard, sniffing the air and her. His eyes dilated, but he made no other hostile movement as he addressed her. "Human…female…" His voice graveled out. "Before you die, I need a name."_

_Miranda moved once more to shoot, but Shepard signaled with one finger for her to wait. _

"_I'm Commander Shepard and I don't appreciate threats; I suggest you relax." Shepard commanded as her fingers found home on her pistol. _

_The Krogan growled and pinned Shepard harder into the wall. "Not yours. Mine." He corrected. "I am trained, I know things, but the tank…" he paused as he seemed to gather his thoughts, "…Okeer couldn't implant connection. His words…are hollow." His throat rumbled once more and Shepard could tell he was thinking. "Warlord…legacy…grunt…grunt…" He pressured his arm against Shepard's throat. "Yes…Grunt. Grunt was among the last. It has no meaning. It will do." He focused his eyes back on Shepard. "I am Grunt. If you are worth of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me." Grunt's voice echoed a challenging dare at the Commander. _

"_Why do you want me to kill you?" Shepard asked, hiding her surprise behind a cool and calm demeanor. _

"_Want? I do what I am meant to – fight and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I want. I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies. That imprint failed. He has failed. Without a reason that's mine, one fight is as good as any other." Grunt let loose a grim smile as he stared down the human female. "Might as well start with you." _

"_You feel nothing for Okeer or his mission?" Shepard asked, once again constraining her emotions away from her face as she spoke with this creature that forced her to recall a similar conversation._

"_Okeer is just a voice in the tank. If his imprints are true, then he created something stronger than him. So he's not worthy of me. And if his hatreds aren't strong enough to compel me, they've failed too. I feel nothing. I have no connection." Grunt growled out, somewhat bothered by the thought of it all. What was his purpose if he could not fight?_

"_Then let me give you a connection." Shepard's eyes blazed, nearly startling the krogan from the sudden intensity. "You want a purpose? I'll give you one. My enemies threaten galaxies. Everyone on my ship has earned their place." She continued to stare at Grunt, assessing him for some kind of motivation. Shepard could see that Grunt wanted to fight…wanted to be of worth. _

_Worth. _

_That was all that everything ever boiled down to. To be worth something; to be wanted; to be somebody. Shepard unconsciously drifted her gaze to the raven hair in the room. The krogan didn't seem to notice, but with Miranda's image in her mind, Shepard thought of a quick tactic to appease Grunt. _

_From what she understood about krogans (or anyone that believed to be better), they never backed down from a challenge. "I'm still deciding if you're worth bringing along – if you're as strong as you claim." She hoped that this would motivate the krogan to fight with them, and perhaps, find himself along the way. "Tell me, Grunt, are you worth being on my team?" She challenged back. _

_The room was tense as the krogan debated on the validity of Shepard's challenge. Finally, Grunt spoke. "That's…acceptable. I will fight for you." Grunt snorted his own approval. _

"_Good. I'm glad you agree." Shepard smirked as she pressed the barrel of her pistol against Grunt's side, causing him to glance down. _

_Grunt laughed as he slowly released Shepard. "Ha! Offer one hand, but arm the other. Wise, Shepard." He chuckled once more as Shepard was finally placed back onto the floor. He contemplated his next words, wanting to get his thoughts across. "If I find a clan, if I find what I want…"He hesitated, trying to figure out the answer to that statement…to find some sort of desire and purpose in his life that went beyond fighting. So far, he found none beyond his own carnal desires to maim and kill. "I will be honored to eventually pit them against you."_

"_We'll see." Shepard shrugged as she holstered her weapon as Grunt surveyed the room for the first time. _

_Grunt let out a grunt as he continued to look about. His gaze settled on the other woman in the cargo hold. Shepard observed as a ripple of amusement coursed through him as he watched Miranda calmly stare him down. The krogan could tell she exhibited power – if Shepard deduced the expression on Grunt's face (he looked like Wrex deciding whether it was easier to head butt an enemy or shoot him instead – a decision only conjured if the foe was worthy enough). _

"_My second-in-command – Miranda Lawson." Shepard voiced, not wanting the krogan to start a fight with Miranda. Grunt merely huffed at her before inspecting his tank and the cargo hold. "I expect you to follow my orders, Grunt, and I expect that you play nice with the other crew members." _

"_I will follow you, Shepard…for now." The Perfect Krogan stated as he quietly muttered that Miranda appeared squishy enough to squash if he had to fight her. _

"Grunt!" Shepard holstered her weapons as she marched over to the krogan. The other squadmates tentatively followed behind their commander, unsure if another fight would occur; they kept themselves at a decent distance to ensure Shepard privacy for reprimanding, but close enough to jump in if they needed to.

Grunt, who was liberating shotgun clips from a corpse, turned to face the angry redhead. He gave no other sound as he seemed to assess the small human. He could feel the anger roll off her and could see the power contained within her eyes – that feeling made him feel cautious and nervous all at once. How odd that that caused him to respect her for it.

Shepard gripped Grunt's armor collar with her left hand and forced his face down to her level. "Disobey my commands again, Grunt, and I won't hesitate to shoot you down!" She threatened in a low, imposing voice. "I won't tolerate actions that can endanger our squadmates!" Her green eyes bore into the krogan's bluish ones. "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Grunt did not have the time to respond as beeping noise chased away the silence. The whole squad realized far too late that a handful of frag grenades had slid their way under Grunt and Shepard's feet.

"GRENADES!" Shepard shouted as she shoved Grunt away from her with all her might.

A loud, jarring explosion erupted as Grunt was propelled further into the opposing wall, while Shepard had jumped and twisted her body away from the blast, but was still sent flying into a metal crate with a loud crash.

Shepard cried out in pain as her head and back was struck from impact. Time appeared to have slowed for the Commander as she tried to register what had happened; her body was shaking and she could barely feel something warm coating her torso. Her mind whirled while her vision blurred in and out of focus. She blinked several times trying to clear her sight, but her body refused to obey as it was riddled with high dosage of pain. A loud shrilling sound was all she could hear, though she could have sworn that she heard a muffle shout calling out to her.

A dark shadow appeared in her line of sight.

"Shepard!"

_Damn, that hurt._ Shepard thought as she felt a blinding pain jab her in the gut. The muffled sound returned, doubling the pain as she tried to process who was speaking to her.

"Shepard! Commander, are you all right?" Miranda hovered over Shepard, omni-tool out and scanning Shepard's injuries; hands moving too quickly for her to follow.

The ringing in Shepard's ears was easing as her vision slowly began to register Miranda's outline above her. She blinked a few more times trying to rid herself of the blurred vision and the massive headache that she had. She could hear gunfire and Garrus issuing orders through their comm link now. Shepard tried to move, but a stabbing pain erupted near her abdomen, causing her to falter in her attempts.

"Easy, Shepard. You're shields may have taken the brunt of the explosion, but some scrap metal still managed to lodge itself into your abdomen. I managed to remove it and apply medi-gel, but we need to get you under proper cover." Miranda informed her, before placing an arm around Shepard and placing the Commander's own over her shoulders.

Shepard allowed Miranda to direct her upward and both women carefully moved behind a large desk that was situated in the corner. "Thanks, Miranda." Shepard sighed out as she leaned her back and head against the desk, trying to regain her bearings.

"Anytime, Commander." Miranda replied as she stuck her pistol out of cover to fire at the Eclipse troopers that had tried to blow Shepard and Grunt apart. She ignored the sickening glee she felt when she blew off the head of the mercenary that had tried to kill Shepard with the grenades; she was just being protective of a billion dollar project…not over Shepard, right? Right.

**Location: Local Cluster/Sol System/Earth/Australia – Brisbane – Hawke Estate**

**2166 CE**

"Dead." The masked winner replied as she pulled back her foil from her opponent's chest and returned to her side of the padded mat. "Are you letting me win?" Eliza lifted the fencing mask from her face and eyed her opponent suspiciously.

"Hardly." Miranda huffed back in annoyance, but the smirk on her face dictated otherwise.

"I'm not so sure; you usually don't suck this bad." Hawke quipped at her friend, earning a glare as her response. "Ooo, there's the Miss Lawson I know." Hawke laughed as she pushed her mask over her face while Miranda did the same.

Miranda placed herself in an en garde position when she heard a small chuckle escape from her opponent. She narrowed her eyes, regarding her masked opponent for a small moment as she, too, stepped into the en garde form. She would enjoy embarrassing Hawke for her comments.

It had been four weeks since Miranda had introduced herself to Eliza at the party. They had had a polite conversation on nothingness as Miranda tried to gauge the other teen's personality and what would be the best way for her to get more acquainted with her. As the conversation wore on, Miranda could tell that Eliza seemed fairly bored of it all and changed her approach, not wanting to lose Lady Hawke's interest.

And so, Miranda slipped off her business-like personal and donned a more…playful one. She had simply taken Hawke's hand and guided her out of the ballroom and outside to the spacious garden patio, using the classic "I need some air" line. Eliza had been too surprised to say otherwise before she found herself on her own patio with the night chill breezing by.

It wasn't long after that that Miranda managed to get Eliza to open up about herself and the two quickly discovered that they both enjoyed fencing. Not one to waste an opportunity, Miranda had invited her over to her estate for a friendly match. That match soon turned into a weekly event that would switch from one estate to the other.

Which explained why both women were now clashing with one another in Hawke's ballroom; they had prepared the room for the fencing activity, pads and a VI scorer situated in the middle of the room.

Catlike, Miranda lunged into a fast, graceful, but merciless attack, hoping to earn a point quickly; her speed knew no equal. Usually. Eliza counter-parried, twisting Miranda's foil upward and then quickly averting her blade forward, effectively striking her square in the chest.

"Point!" The automated VI announced as it read contact to Miranda's gear.

"Dead again." Hawke laughed. "Come, Miranda, don't make it too easy."

Miranda stared at her opponent, grateful that her mask covered the shocked expression on her face. That had usually worked on Eliza before. She placed herself back into the en garde position, trying to shake off her distracting thoughts.

Indeed, Miranda was far more distracted than she cared to admit. Her father had been hounding her for information about the starship plans and Eliza's own involvement. She wasn't exactly sure on why her father was being more impatient than usual; these types of plots took time. Eliza needed to feel that she trusted Miranda, and so far, the engineered teenager wasn't sure where she stood in Eliza's circle.

Miranda placed herself in the ready position. Her mind mentally multitasking, she subconsciously watched Eliza for movement as she tried to figure out a way to speed up this friendship process. She knew it wasn't easy; her own experience taught her that. Why, it had taken her years to fully accept a real friendship with Niket. How long would it take this placebo one to come into fruition? Granted, Miranda had begun to enjoy their time together. Eliza was not only skilled with the blade, but she was very intelligent and well-read; Miranda found that they could talk with one another on various topics before realizing that hours had gone by. It was…satisfying to find someone that matched her interests. It didn't hurt that they had established an easy rapport with one another as well.

This time, Eliza attacked first and Miranda body reacted instantly, before her mind brought her back to the match. Miranda moved to parry the attack to her right breast, when the opposing blade quickly swooned upward to attack her shoulder instead. A disengage, Miranda noted dryly as she twisted her wrist into a circle parry to block the expecting lunge. Steel struck steel, but Miranda wasted no time when she entered her riposte, attacking in a straight line to her attacker's chest.

"Point!" The automated VI announced.

"I didn't bruise your ego, did I?" Miranda teased as Eliza rubbed the impact location with a frown.

"Did I bruise yours?" Came the snarky reply, "You pushed a bit harder than usual." She grumbled as she returned to the engarde position.

"Just making sure you weren't getting complacent." Miranda supplied with a hidden grin.

"Preposterous!" Eliza feigned a wounded tone. "How ill you think of me."

The next round was far more challenging than the others as both women refused to concede to the other. Once her opponent was ready, Miranda instantly lunged, her back leg propelling her forward as her foil aimed for her opponent's heart.

A ringing sound resounded as the two blades met; her attack had been parried with a flick technique. Getting competitive now, Miranda would not allow herself to be deterred. She twisted her wrist, forcing both blades to her right side and allowing her opponent's shoulder to be exposed for an attack. However, it seemed Eliza had anticipated such a move and quickly disengaged, with Miranda following relentlessly to gain her last point.

Eliza, too, was getting competitive as the round wore on. She refused to go on the defensive and began beating Miranda's blade to the side and advancing forward once more; a move to disconcert and frustrate. It appeared to have worked as Miranda let loose an upset snarl as _she _was the one forced into the defensive as Eliza gained the right of way for an attack.

They continued their battle when Miranda did a counter parry, but hesitated for a split second when she noticed her Hawke's twist her wrist to the left. It was a feint attack, but Miranda instantly knew that she had fallen into her opponent's strategy. She heard the resounding twang as her opponent's blade not only blocked, but once more flicked to hit her square in the chest.

"Point! End Match." The VI finalized.

Miranda tore her mask off, gulping in fresh air; that last round was intense. She placed her foil in its sheath next to the VI unit. "You've gotten better, Eliza."

"I think you're just distracted." Eliza shrugged as she too, put her foil away.

"You're hard to compliment, you know." Miranda mentally frowned. How could she tell? Not wanting to expose her emotions to her target, Miranda lightly laughed the comment off until she noticed the frown on Eliza's face. "What?" She asked, wondering what had upset the Hawke heiress.

"You do that a lot." She gestured at Miranda with a wave of an absentminded finger, "A fake laugh to deflect a truth about yourself." She began taking off her fencing gear.

Miranda was stunned into silence. How did Eliza know that? How could she _see_ through her façade? "I'm not sure what you're talking about." Miranda crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to play off Hawke's astute observation. "I was just informing you on how well you've improved since we've began."

Eliza sighed. Defensive and business-like Miranda had surfaced. She preferred the passionate, humorous, and carefree Miranda; the one that didn't pop up when it had to – the natural one that loved to talk about music, art, and science. "Right, forget I said anything…just…" She paused, trying to put into words on how she felt. She knew why Miranda had first approached her; Eliza was taught to be very observant and cautious when it came to people. And she wasn't stupid.

However, there was a feeling she had about Miranda – one that pushed her to accept these invitations and conversations. A feeling in her gut that told her that Miranda was worth trusting…if she obtained her trust first. "…just know that I'm here, if you need to talk or anything…" She fumbled out, trying to shake off that nervous feeling she had been experiencing as of late with Miranda.

Miranda stared. She was unsure on how to comment. She was unsure on how to react to this sudden feeling in her chest. Eliza was so sincere (if a bit nervous) and willing to help. And somehow Miranda knew that Eliza would never ask for anything in return if by some chance she ever did need anything. Miranda had never encountered someone so…selfless. Her first instinct was to cringe away in disgust as her father had taught, but another part…a long forgotten part, wanted to embrace such a friendship.

The two continued to stare at one another, uncertain of these feelings they were beginning to experience around the other. "Really; I'm here if you need me." Eliza whispered out, as if afraid to disturb the silence they had created.

"Thank you." Miranda replied in the same volume. Her own gratitude surprised her and suddenly it was as if someone had placed her in the sun's core as Eliza's gaze somehow turned more intense. Miranda audibly gulped; confused about the warmth she was feeling, but not wanting to flee from it.

"HAWKE!" A loud, North American accent shrieked into the ballroom, shattering whatever tension had formed the moment Eliza blinked.

Miranda whipped her head around to see a scrawny looking redhead in the archway. She felt an unexplainable moment of annoyance for the sudden interruption.

Eliza blinked again at the figure before sporting a wide grin. "SHEPARD!" She bounded over to her best friend, leaving a very confused, if a more annoyed Miranda behind her.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Fathar System/Lorek – Eclipse Base**

**2185 CE**

"Damn. I'm glad I ain't him." Zaeed's gruff voice echoed in Shepard's momentarily sensitive ears; she was still suffering from the grenade attack.

"Spirits." Garrus muttered as he went to inspect the corpse in the torture chair.

"Agent Rawlings, I presume?" Shepard asked as she stared at the mangle and bloody body. It sickened her how the Eclipse had tortured this man for information. Rawlings may have been a Cerberus agent, but no one deserved to be tortured. Well…scratch that. Shepard could think of one being she wanted to torture. Keeping those dark thoughts to herself, she moved to a computer terminal and began hacking it to see where the data they had been sent to recover was located.

"He would have had to be pretty strong to endure what they did to him." Kasumi commented, trying to keep herself detached from the view before her. She had seen worse, but still, she preferred to keep her breakfast in her stomach today. She turned away, glad that her hood masked the queasy expression on her face.

"Found it." Shepard replied grimly.

"Good." Miranda acknowledged as she too, was sifting through another computer terminal. "It appears Agent Rawlings never revealed the cipher to unlock the encryption on the data." She commented.

"How do you think they trained him to endure such torture?" Kasumi asked Zaeed while Miranda went to speak with Shepard.

"How you think, sweetheart?" He alluded, before marching outside to stand guard with Grunt.

Kasumi shivered at the implications.

"The data is still encrypted, so I would have to say you're right on your assessment about Rawlings." Shepard replied to Miranda as she continued to look at the encryption and begun uploading it to her omni-tool while she was at it. There was something, oddly familiar about the codes that were laced within one another. She continued to type some more, trying to analyze the core code. It was true, a cipher or key needed to be known to fully reveal the embedded information…and yet…there was a familiar pattern that could be made out…

Shepard gasped out loud, realizing the underlining code. _Bloody hell!_

"Shepard?" Miranda looked at her commander quizzically.

"Time to go." Shepard replied as she finished uploading the data to her omni-tool. She quickly wiped the information from the Eclipse computer. _How the hell did Cerberus get their hands on this?_

"Shepard, what is—" Miranda was cut off by Shepard's quick exit.

"Let's go!" Shepard barked, her tone unusually clip and stern.

Miranda turned to gaze at Garrus. The turian just shrugged in confusion before filing out of the room, Kasumi following close behind.

Alone, Miranda tried to make sense of Shepard's behavior. What had startled her so? Determined to find out, the Operative rushed out with the rest of team and headed back to the shuttle and then to the Normandy.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Fathar System/Lorek's Orbit/Normandy SR-2 – Captain's Quarters**

"EDI, what can you tell me about the data?" Shepard asked as she typed furiously on her computer terminal. To avoid any unwanted eyes in her cabin, Shepard had disabled the cameras she had found throughout her quarters. No doubt the Illusive Man wanted to keep an eye on her. She could have cared less, but right now, the information that she held in her hands was not something she wanted Cerberus to look at.

"Preliminary searches show that the information pertains to illicit operations in which Cerberus was involved over the past five years. Should this information be released, it could severely hinder Cerberus' ability to operate openly in the galaxy. It will take me a year or more to completely decrypt this information." The AI explained to Shepard.

"You can't tell me anything else?" Shepard asked trying to calm her frantic heart. She still couldn't believe that her own code had somehow managed to be instilled in a Cerberus data encryption. If this was the code she made…then she feared on what other information was placed on that disc.

"Not at the moment, Commander." EDI replied with a curious lit. Shepard would have questioned the tone, but was frankly, too preoccupied with her own thoughts.

"What if, I supply this information?" Shepard inserted her own cipher into the command prompt on her terminal.

EDI was silent for a moment, no doubt processing the information. "Secondary searches show that the information also includes technological blueprints. However, I am unable to render the exact nature of the blueprints. It will still take me a year to completely decrypt this information, Commander."

Shepard growled as her fears were confirmed. "It's okay, EDI. In the meantime, I'm locking the data away in a more secured location until I can figure out what to do with it."

"Commander, I must warn you. The Illusive Man requires that the data be uploaded to him. Should you complete your intention, I would have to decrypt your safeguards and retrieve the data for his use."

"EDI, listen to me. This data is dangerous. As in dangerous to the crew and to others if it gets released. You said it yourself. I'm asking you, nicely, now, to protect our crew. Is that not your primary objective?"

The AI was silent as if contemplating Shepard's words. "I concede to your point, Commander. My primary objective is to protect the crew. I will not attempt to retrieve the data."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, Commander. Logging you out."

Shepard sighed out, glad that she was able to get EDI on her side. As she sat at her terminal, contemplating on what to do with the data, she heard the distinct sounds of _click-click-click_ approaching her door.

_Oh hell…_ She was in trouble.

"Shepard! What are you doing?" Miranda wasted no breath as she stormed into the Captain's quarters.

"Um, sitting?" Shepard wryly replied, opting to play innocent.

"EDI has just informed me that you refuse to give the Cerberus that data!" She fumed out, ignoring Shepard's ill attempt on playing dumb.

"The information is dangerous Miranda." Shepard's mouth pressed itself in a thin line as she stood to regard her XO. "I'm keeping it safe until I can figure out what to do with it."

"That is Cerberus property, Commander! Information that could benefit future operations and advance our goals." Miranda seethed out.

"Not this type of information." Shepard spat out. "I'm not handing this to Cerberus to exploit!"

"Give me the data, Commander." It was useless to argue about the contents so Miranda changed her tactics.

"No." Shepard's voice rumbled back.

"Commander…" The icy demeanor was firmly placed on Miranda as she warned Shepard. "I will not ask again."

"And I won't tell you again, Miranda. This data is dangerous. It's staying where it's at." Shepard stared back with equal intensity. "No one gets this data."

A light flare of biotics erupted around Miranda's left fist as she tried to maintain control over her anger. However, her anger won out and with a biotic infused fist, she punched Shepard square in the jaw.

"You insufferable ass!" Miranda spat out before marching out of the loft. She knew she couldn't really harm the Commander; that was worse than not giving the data to the Illusive Man. The Galaxy was counting on Shepard in defeating the Reapers so she couldn't kill her.

So she had to settle with the smug satisfaction in seeing Shepard sprawl onto the floor.

**Fifteen Minutes Later**

"Damn that woman." Shepard groaned as she placed a cold compress on her jaw. Needless to say, Miranda had a very good left hook.

After being punched by Miranda, an embarrassed Shepard was left, staggered against her desk, trying to figure out what had just happened. She was lucky all she had to suffer from was a bruised jaw, as Dr. Chakwas sarcastically informed her when she had run down to grab the compress from the medical bay.

"Damn that woman." Shepard grumbled again as she idly scrolled through her email. Well, this would really set their already tentative relationship back.

"Commander, you have an urgent comm from a Mr. Nashan." EDI's voice suddenly chimed into Shepard's brooding.

Shepard froze as she heard the name. _How the hell did he get through? _"Are you sure it's a Mr. Nashan, EDI?" Shepard desperately tried to maintain control over her voice.

"Yes, Commander." EDI assured. "He insists that it is urgent, but refuses to state his business. He assured me that you would wish to speak with him. Although, Mr. Moreau would like to note that he does not trust the man."

Shepard clenched her fists as she thought about the caller. "Patch him through EDI and encrypt the call. This is a private matter; I don't want anyone listening, including you, EDI."

"Understood Commander." A pause. "The call has been encrypted. Logging you out."

Shepard placed her compress down and opened the comm link from her terminal with a hesitant hand. She wanted to just ignore the call, but knew that would only bring upon wrath – a wrath that held two years of additional information on her that she was unsure of its capabilities. It was safer, perhaps, to answer the call and see what he wanted.

"Commander Shepard." A familiar encrypted voice vibrated throughout the room. "It has been too long."

"What's this? I managed to get a personal call from you. Shadow Broker." Shepard hissed out. "I thought I told you not to contact me ever again; our business is done!"

"You presume much, Commander. You still have a debt to pay." The Broker's voice rasped out.

"I'm done working with you or did my actions on Elysium not clue you in?" Shepard's biotics dangerously flared around her fists.

"This is pointless, Commander. We had a mutual beneficial relationship. You chose to betray me. I do not take betrayal lightly, Commander. You of all people should know that."

Shepard's biotics flared violently. "Careful, Broker on how you speak of the past." Shepard's biotics now fully engulfed her; her eyes an eerie dark blue as they glowed with power.

"You owe me information, Commander. You owe me a debt. I intend to collect. Your death has merely delayed it."

"Piss off!" Shepard spat out at the audio coming out of her terminal. A swirl of biotics began to dance dangerously around Shepard.

"It has come to my attention that you have retrieved valuable data from my operatives in Lorek. Give me the data, Commander and I will consider your debt paid in full." The Shadow Broker continued, oblivious to the biotics display.

"Go to Hell!" Shepard cursed the Broker. "I know what's on that data; you'll never get it from me."

"You still exhibit misplace confidence, Commander. Or perhaps it is due to you finding Operative Lawson?" A sly intonation could be heard through the link, causing Shepard to freeze in horror.

"Leave. Her. Out. Of. This." Shepard's tone had gone completely dark and dangerous as her overprotectiveness and rage took over.

"You brought her into the game, Commander. Give me the information I require and she will be an untouched piece. Refuse my offer and you shall watch the one you hold most dear suffer beyond comprehension. I expect the data in my possession within two solar days." The call ended abruptly.

"NO!" Shepard screamed out, unleashing her biotics in a maddening pulsed rage. Data pads on her desk shot away from her; the glass around her models' casing cracked in web like patterns; her terminal's screen completely shattered; the large fish tank crackled before jagged cuts formed in spiral patterns and trickles of water began to drip out.

"No!" Shepard whimpered out as she was faced with one of the most difficult decisions in her life. She slumped to her knees, oblivious to the destruction she had caused in her quarters. What was she to do?

Did she sacrifice Miranda?

Or the lives of millions?

Shepard bowed her head into her hands and unleashed a pitiful sob as her soul was raked with torment.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Now. It gets interesting! **

**Happy New Year! I had some extra time due to the holiday season, so I decided to post this a week early (plus I'm eager to see what you guys think with this new development). **

**As always, I would be grateful for any comments/inputs on the story thus far. Especially if anyone is confused - that means I have to work on my delivery. I have to say, this was my favorite chapter to write thus far, just cause I enjoy doing the flashback scenes. Anyway, I'll stop rambling. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story so far. **

**Thank you all for reading/following/alerting/and especially favoriting (is that even a word?)! **


	6. Chapter 5-Misguided Ghosts

**Chapter 5 – Misguided Ghosts**

_Would someone care to classify_

_Our broken hearts and twisted minds_

_So I can find someone to rely on?_

_And run to them, to them_

_Full speed ahead_

_Oh, you are not useless_

_We are just – _

_Misguided ghosts_

_Traveling endlessly_

_The ones we trusted the most_

_Pushed us far away_

_And there's no one road_

_We should not be the same_

_But I'm just a ghost_

_And still they echo me_

_They echo me in circles._

_Paramore – Misguided Ghosts_

**Location: Omega Nebula/Fathar System/Lorek's Orbit/Normandy SR-2 – Captain's Quarters**

**01:22:45:23 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

"Shepard…are you sure you're feeling all right?" Garrus' gruff voice tentatively called out as he studied the scene before him. Shepard could feel the concern seeping out of him, but she refused to get distracted from her work and address the pink elephant in the room.

"Fine, Garrus." Shepard sang back in a deceptively calm tone as she studied her blown up terminal thoughtfully. Pieces of her terminal lay before her; exposed and barren as Shepard's soldering tool (which she purchased in an old antique mechanic shop on the Citadel) hovered over the electronic parts. She had broken the computer and decided to fix it – with improvements – where Cerberus and Shadow Broker bugs could not hack into.

"Commander…I would have to agree with Mr. Vakarian's concern, I mean, who does _that_?" Yeoman Chambers' – Kelly – voice was filled with confusion and skepticism as she gazed over Shepard's hunched shoulders.

"Hmm?" Shepard glanced up from her terminal and noticed the direction of Kelly's pointing finger and Garrus' gaze. She swiveled her head to her right side, eyeing their cause for concern – one that she had not anticipated. "What? I needed to save my fish; they were handy." She explained with a perplexed, raised eyebrow as she turned back to address them.

EDI had alerted them, apparently, of her "little" outburst (except Garrus, who had just wanted to talk and unfortunately encountered the unruly room). She was fine with Garrus' presence, but Kelly's presence, was another matter. Shepard disliked shrinks and any attempt of being psychologically analyzed; she had enough of them growing up.

"You turned your helmets into fish bowls, Shepard." Garrus deadpanned.

"That's what you're so concerned about?" Shepard furrowed her eyebrows and returned her gaze to the three helmets that she had turned upside down, anchored on a makeshift stand created by bent metal hangers, and filled with fish. Apparently see didn't the problem as they did. _What's wrong with my new fish bowls?_

"I don't think those high quality helmets envisioned themselves becoming fish bowls." Kelly added as she took a peek into one and watched the blue fish swim about. Shepard noted the hint of laughter in the woman's tone and realized they were teasing her.

"It's not like I wear them; I hate wearing helmets unless I have to." Shepard playfully frowned at their ribbing. It was really all she had on hand when she had EDI drain her tank before the water flooded her cabin; it was better than having her helmets rot in her closet. She sighed. Why did she have to defend her practicality? She eyed them in a half-hearted attempt of annoyance.

"But fish bowls?" Garrus repeated, his mandibles slightly twitching in delight.

"What I want to know is why we are not more concerned as to the source in which we find your quarters, Commander." A fourth, crisped voice entered the conversation; her heels clicking back up the small set of stairs and to the other three in the office. The lightheartedness that Shepard had just experienced vanished at the appearance of her XO.

Miranda folded her arms under her chest and stared at her commander with an unreadable expression. EDI had alerted Miranda first of Shepard's outburst, much to the chagrin of the Commander.

"It was nothing." Shepard assured as her hands went back to fixing her terminal; she had broken open the other terminal (which she barely used) for parts and was gently soldering them to her main terminal. She was determined to dissuade her visitors of prying into her business. She didn't want to get into the conversation about the Shadow Broker blackmailing her; she couldn't allow them to get involved, knowing how dangerous it was and how deep she was embedded already. Especially Miranda. Shepard needed time to figure out what she needed to do; whether to ignore her heart or ignore her head.

"I don't find that a nearly blown up fish tank, a damaged display case, and a disintegrated terminal as nothing." Miranda retorted with the same annoyed tone; her eyes never leaving the Commander as she stood at the top of the stairs, next to Garrus.

Miranda's displeasure was plausible and Shepard knew that their latest argument and her recent actions only piled onto that emotion. She mentally groaned at her own faults, feeling like she could never do anything right.

"Worried about the cost, Miss Lawson, or about your pet project possibly suffering from psychological breakdown?" Shepard whispered back, hoping that the current uninvited occupants would just leave; time was not on her side at the moment. She needed time to think – time to be alone – and having Miranda near would only compromise any plans she was hoping to concoct against the Broker.

"My concern seems warrant, gathering this is your second violent outburst or need I remind you the deprecation your hand gave to your washroom mirror?" Miranda replied with an even, challenging beat; her sensitive ears easily heard Shepard's grumbling.

Shepard groaned out loud. Apparently Dr. Chakwas wasn't as discreet as she had hoped when she had gone to her for a quick patch-up…or was it EDI that gave her up? She'll have to interrogate EDI, as Dr. Chakwas was prone to give a motherly pep talk whenever her health was concerned. Either way, she was not happy to learn that Miranda knew about the mirror. "_That_ was due to something else." Shepard admitted, not having the patience or energy to lie.

"Enlighten me, then."

"No." Shepard replied, if a bit childishly; _that_ she still had some energy to avoid talking about. She was definitely not opening that can of worms yet. Shepard was doing her best not to lie to Miranda, but that did not mean she was willing to divulge information. God, she wished the woman would just drop it. Shepard took a deep breath, trying to keep her mind calm under the constant stresses she was being subjugated to.

"Commander…" Miranda warned with frustration.

"Not today." Shepard set her equipment down as she felt the wave of annoyance wash toward her. She would have to quell and end this soon if she was able to salvage any relationship later; she may have wanted Miranda gone from her room, but not out of her life.

Miranda's eyesight briefly flickered over to the soldering iron and open equipment. She had read that Shepard was a tech savvy in the Alliance, but to see it first hand was…upsetting. _This_ was Eliza's domain, not Shepard's. When did she even learn these things? Miranda fought back the phantom memory of walking into Eliza's workroom, watching the woman work flawlessly on some new idea she had probably developed while eating breakfast that morning or dreamt about. The operative squashed that memory swiftly, not wanting to compromise herself in the presence of others; however, it was impossible not to permeate further coldness at Shepard for her audacity to flaunt Eliza's gifted interest at her.

Shepard stood, trying to appear imposing despite her underlying confused and stressed nerves as she sensed Miranda's increased coldness. She would not allow Miranda to break her down. She would not allow her emotions for the operative to control her, despite every fiber of her being demanding that she fuss up to her; she could not afford that right now, not with the Shadow Broker's threat hanging over her. She would protect the woman she loved even if it meant being hated and persecuted.

Garrus and Kelly stared between the two women, feeling the uncomfortable tension rising further as Miranda narrowed her eyes in response to receiving Shepard's complete and defiant attention.

"I think I'll go and inform Jacob about getting you a replaced tank and casing, Commander." Kelly replied hurriedly as she desperately tried to find an excuse to evade being collateral damage. "Mr. Vakarian you can help me too!" Kelly added, as she noticed the defensive stance the turian was taking against Miranda.

"I'm just fine he—ow!" Garrus had begun to say before he was pulled by his arm and out the door with Kelly.

That whole exchanged went unnoticed as the two commanding officers stared one another down in silence.

"Commander, if you are having issues then it is best we address them now. You are too important to be jeopardized; we need you at your best to fight the Collectors." Miranda ended the silent standoff as her eyes scrutinized her Commander's reactions.

"And if I'm not at my best, tell me, Miranda…what would you do?" Shepard asked in a low voice.

Miranda noted the harshness in Shepard's tone, but her eyes were communicating something else entirely. Fear? No. Worry then? Possible. Hope? Inconceivable. She couldn't exactly discern it (which was further upsetting as Miranda prided in reading people) as Shepard was skilled in controlling the emotion from appearing completely. _When did she learn that?_

"I would work with you until you are at your best, Commander. You're needed to spearhead this fight. I—we," Miranda corrected, "did not spend two years resurrecting you for nothing." Miranda replied coolly.

"Hmm." Shepard sounded as her eyes darted passed Miranda to process the woman's words. She silently bit her lower lip as she pondered for a moment. "What makes me so important?" She whispered so quietly that if not for Miranda's sensitive ears, would have missed.

The vulnerability in Shepard's manner caught Miranda off guard; it was one that she never had associated with her before. What surprised Miranda further was how she reacted toward it. She felt herself softening toward Shepard as her eyes inconspicuously took in the woman's fatigue.

"Commander," Miranda started, attracting said woman's gaze, "you and I have never gotten along, but that does not mean I do not respect your abilities." She wrung her hands together, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Why was she saying these things? How was it that Shepard could invoke them from her? And then some understanding came to her. "Eliza once said that you had a good heart, Shepard." Miranda revealed as a small pang vibrated around her heart as she spoke Eliza's name out loud. She absently scratched her neck out of nerves, but that did not deter her to speak of what Eliza believed in. "It's that heart, Commander, that we need. _You _care about the galaxy; about the people. Not many believe in such selfless acts anymore; those ideals have long since died. And yet, here you are, going about helping those in need without any thought of recompense. You're important Commander because you ignite a long forgotten belief."

"And what is that?" Shepard whispered, seemingly captivated by Miranda's sudden display of passion.

"That heroes exist." Miranda supplied.

"I'm no hero, Miranda." Shepard's gaze tore away from Miranda as she thought about all her passed deeds. "Far from it."

"Well, no one's perfect." Miranda mused and Shepard lightly chuckled at the inside joke between them. "But that doesn't mean that you don't have a good heart, Commander. That's what Eliza believed at any rate." Miranda added.

"And what do you believe?" Shepard asked, feeling guilty at Miranda's praise.

"I believe, that you'll do what's right, but first," A coy smile appeared on Miranda's face, "we'll need to get you at your best." She hinted back to the main concern.

"Miranda," Shepard rubbed her temple and then her right forearm tiredly. "I understand your concern, truly, but it's something I don't want to talk about at the moment." She explained as gently, but firmly as she could.

"Is this related to the vid-comm you received an hour ago?" Miranda found herself blurting out as she tried to deduce the source for Shepard's stress. The operative inwardly cringed as she felt the peaceful atmosphere shift. Who knew she bloody cared about feelings, let alone, Shepard's feelings?

"Is nothing private on this bloody ship?" Shepard groaned out as she threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Shepard, it is imperative that we address this so that –" Miranda started, truly concerned about her Commander's welfare.

"Miranda, please, just let it go." Shepard sighed out, realizing how emotionally tired she was. "Please." She half-plead and half-ordered. "Just give me some time to process and comprehend everything right now, all right? I promise you, that I'm fine." _ Just let it go._

Miranda was silent as she gauged Shepard, trying to determine the honesty and validity of her statement. Perhaps, she would let this one go…for now. Shepard did look unnaturally tired. Miranda idly wondered when Shepard last received a proper night's rest. She debated whether or not to ask, but decided that that might open another avenue of arguments, and frankly, Miranda found herself emotionally tired as well. "As you wish, Commander" Miranda's lips remained in a thin stoic line as she returned to her known aloofness.

Shepard directed a grateful smile at Miranda. "You know, you can call me Shepard, Miranda. I believe our relationship has evolved passed being acquaintances to at least to the co-worker level; after all, we've nearly died together a few times." Shepard joked as her heart fluttered in her chest at the appearance of Miranda's small smile. This was going to make her decision much harder.

"If I recall, most of those near-death experiences were all credited to you." Miranda retorted back playfully. Not for the first time, Miranda wondered how the Commander could generate such emotions from her; it was making it harder to hate her.

"Touché, Miss Lawson, but it doesn't change the fact that I consider you as a friend and valuable member of the crew," Shepard smirked, "despite all our disagreements."

Miranda blinked. Shepard considered her a friend? Did that really mean her Commander trusted her? She mentally frowned. Was their relationship truly evolving? Could Miranda forgive her? After a moment of pause, Miranda decided to at least be cordial as she inwardly digested Shepard's sincere (if a bit playful) words. "Shepard, about that…I, do apologize for hitting you; I allowed my emotions to run free. I'll understand if you wish to repri—"

"It's fine, Miranda; I think I deserved that one – nice hook by the way." Shepard turned her sights onto her damaged terminal as she gently rubbed the purple bruise on her cheek. "I did act a bit of a bitch; I could have handled that better. This data…this information that is held, I can't let it be out in the open. It's too dangerous. I hope you understand that."

Miranda sighed as she found herself relenting while she watched Shepard nurse her wound; a small prideful satisfaction snuck up on her as she watched. "I don't agree with your decision, Shepard, but I do respect your concerns."

Shepard couldn't help the grin that formed on her face. "Do mine ears deceive me? Is this not the second time in this conversation, that Miss Lawson has said she respected me?" Shepard teased.

"And I can see your ego has just grown." Miranda rolled her eyes and let loose a soft chuckle. "Try not to read too much into it." She added with a light head shake.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Shepard's grin remained as she enjoyed this carefree moment; Miranda always had a knack of calming her, intentional or not.

"Good. If that would be all, Commander, I think I will be going." The operative replied, feeling as if she had been overloaded with enough emotions in the past half hour. Eliza would certainly be proud…"Miss Chambers and Jacob will handle your repairs and perhaps, when you're ready, you can speak to Miss Chambers about whatever is troubling you...or me, if you feel more comfortable." Miranda hedged as she carefully studied Shepard's reaction.

Shepard's eyes turned sad for a moment but she slowly nodded her head in agreement. "When I'm ready, Miranda, you'll be the first to know what's going on in my head; I promise." She smiled sadly before returning to her desk and her broken terminal.

Miranda could not help the little leap in her chest when she discovered Shepard's preference for her over Chambers. _What was wrong with me?_ Miranda wondered as her emotions began to swirl within her. _What did this mean?_

It seemed her theory was solidifying: her relationship with Shepard was growing into respect the more they associated and worked with one another. It was an astounding discovery for her and one that was slowly changing her hated perspective into a more courteous one. However, it also made her heart feel guilty. Did she not care for Eliza? Did she not owe Eliza vengeance on those that had ended her life? And yet, Miranda knew that Eliza would not want her to harbor such destructive emotions. It was this that made the operative comfort the Commander; it was all because of Eliza's love for both of them. The revelation was daunting. Miranda managed to take a casual intake of breath as her thoughts screened before her.

Could she really just let everything go? Her mantra flashed before her eyes: was not the past, just that? The past? Had she not been telling herself that for the past 19 years? Did that not mean that all emotions and memories were to be left behind her? And yet, it seemed, she had been doing the exact opposite by holding onto this hate for Shepard…and her love for Eliza. Was that why she kept everyone at arm's length? Because she was actually thriving on her past and merely living as a ghost in the present? Not one to enjoy analyzing herself, Miranda instantly severed those thought processes and returned to her original conundrum: Commander Shepard.

Shepard was a giant enigma for Miranda; one moment she would be an annoying prick in her side, and yet, in another moment, she would be generating compassion and warmth that resounded beyond any normal being. It was as if Shepard were two completely different people. It was utterly baffling, especially when that warmth was directed at Miranda.

Miranda sensed Shepard's eyes upon her and realized that she had not spoken for at least a minute. The operative managed a polite smile that hid her inner turmoil well. "Very well, Commander. When you are ready, I'll be here." She replied and bid the Commander goodnight.

Little did Miranda know how much her response and conversation had truly meant to Shepard.

**Location: Local Cluster/Sol System/Earth/Australia – Brisbane**

**2166 CE**

A low whistled echoed within the large, wide room as Jane Shepard entered. "Damn, Hawke. You wasted no time in getting straight to work." The teenager replied as she took in the contraptions and scattered equipment all along various work benches.

"Hmm?" Eliza walked in after Shepard and gave her tech lab a cursory glance. "What work? Those are all my side projects." Eliza shrugged away as she headed straight for the table in the back of the room.

"You have way too much time, Hawke; I need to get you a boyfriend." Shepard gingerly took a peek at a circular metallic piece, wondering what it was. To Shepard, it looked like a small frisbee turned robotic with knives sticking off its back. "What the heck is this?" She asked as she poked one of the silver needles that were sticking out.

"I do not need a boyfriend." Eliza muttered, but glanced behind her at Shepard's inquiry. "Oh that, that's just me practicing some soldering techniques. It's nothing…kinda like a pincushion." Eliza's shouted out from the back as she plopped herself on the high work stool. She preferred soldering, despite its apparent ancient ways, as she liked the more hands-on experience.

"Like a pincushion?" Shepard murmured as she continued further down into the workshop with her eyes wandering about. Hawke had only been in Australia for two months and yet, her workshop appeared as if someone worked here for years. Jane sighed as she looked at the back of Hawke's head in pity. She really needed to get Hawke a boyfriend. "Would it kill you to get out once and awhile? Have a fling or two?" Shepard asked as she sat next to her friend, toying with some wires she found lying on the table. "It'll relax you." She smirked as her tone became more suggestive.

Hawke groaned, knowing exactly what Shepard had in mind for relaxation. "No thanks." She replied with her usual bored tone whenever this subject arose. She shuffled through the datapads that were strewn across her desk as she searched for the one to show her friend. "Not everyone can go through sexual encounters like you, Shep."

"Ha! You're so cute when you're being all innocent." Shepard teased and then donned a reminiscing grin. "You have no idea what you're missing." She said dreamily. "Why just on the flight here, I met this girl and guy—"

Hawke instantly covered Shepard's mouth with her hand as a disgusted look spread across her face. "Gross. No. I don't want to know."

"Mmm…empfh..kllemmp…" Shepard mumbled against her friend's hand, while her eyes rolled in a 'whatever' expression.

"Nope. None. Really don't want to hear about your exploits." Hawke rapidly fired out as she elegantly withdrew her hand and resumed her search.

"You're never going to get laid with that attitude." Shepard sighed as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, while her arm rested on the table. "What am I going to do with you?" She dramatically pretended to consider the question as Hawke smiled in triumphant.

"Found it." Hawke declared as she waved the datapad in front of her face.

"Completely ignoring me…" Shepard muttered under her breath as she reached out for the offered datapad. "What's this?" She asked as she looked at the images and mathematical equations on the datapad. Her face scrunched up in confusion. "Hawke…I don't speak geek." She gently tapped the datapad against Eliza's forehead. "What the hell am I looking at?"

Hawke let out a dramatic sigh. "I sometimes wonder how you and I are friends." She took back the datapad and began to zoom through its contents.

"Well, it's obviously not because of the sex, cause that just sucks." Shepard deadpanned before squealing in pain when a datapad hit her forehead.

"You got a bloody cheek on you, you do." Hawke cried out in a mixture of laughter and embarrassment at her friend's fabricated tease; that girl loved to make her uncomfortable. "Honestly, is that all that you think about?" Eliza asked as she watched Jane rub her forehead.

"Um, yes?" Shepard replied in mock seriousness.

Hawke rolled her eyes at her best friend's antics.

"Oh, come on, Hawke. Lighten up! Geez, I swear you've been so uptight since I've gotten here…" Shepard trailed off, causing Eliza to turn to her friend with a curious frown.

"What?" Eliza hesitantly asked. Shepard was a known loudmouth and so, when said woman would abruptly stop talking that usually bode ill – especially for her. It meant one thing: Shepard had an idea on her mind; an idea that danced toward trouble.

"So," Shepard finally drawled out, "is that Lawson chick single?"

Eliza blinked several times, completely startled from the sudden change of topic. "I believe so…" She scrunched up her face, trying to figure out Shepard's reason to bring up Miranda. She could only think of one. "I would be careful with her Shep. I doubt Miranda is interested in romance with you, let alone sex."

Shepard continued to stare off into space as she considered whatever was on her mind. "Mmm, she did seem a bit cold when I arrived, didn't she?" She mumbled and Eliza barely managed to hear her, let alone understand her. "It was almost as if she was angry with my arrival." Shepard coherently proclaimed as she directed a meaningful smirk at Hawke.

Eliza narrowed her eyes, not liking the wolfish smile on her friend. What was Jane implying? "There wasn't much going on; we just finished our match when you arrived. She appeared rather fine when I introduced you to one another. I know she can be rather cold, but that's just her outward exterior." Hawke explained with a confused expression; she still didn't understand the reason for Shepard's mischievous smile.

"Oh, there was definitely something going on. You could practically _slice_ the tension in half with a knife."

"What?" Eliza squeaked out.

"I mean, if I hadn't interrupted when I did," The red head continued on, ignoring Hawke's flabbergasted outburst, "I bet you that you two would have been definitely _heating_ one another up real soon. Melt that cold exterior right off her." Shepard chuckled as she spotted Hawke's wide-eyed expression.

"Wha..what?" Hawke's usually smooth voice came out as a croak.

"This totally explains your sudden prudish and uptight mood." Shepard replied philosophically.

"No…no…that's not…we're not…she's…a she…and…I…" Hawke fumbled out, disjointedly trying to process Shepard's words.

"My dear baby Hawke is growing up and having _womanly_ feelings." Shepard crooned out with a sick smile. "I never would have believed this day would come." She pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm so happy."

"Ugh! Would you stop?" Eliza found her voice again as she huffed away from her teasing friend. "It's not like that." She assured, though she felt a strange fleeting emotion of disappointment when she uttered those words.

"Rigghhht." Shepard replied unconvinced. "That's not what I picked up when I walked in on you two." Jane sighed out in defeat when an icy glare was thrown her way. "Fine. I'll leave it alone, but seriously Hawke, there is something brewing between you two."

"Nothing is brewing." Hawke replied in defiance and glued her eyes once more to her datapad to avoid discussing the topic further. Eliza could not deny that Miranda was physically attractive, but she was a woman, and Eliza wasn't interested in women. Right? Plus, she had to remember, that Miranda had her own hidden agenda.

"Whatever, but keep in mind – I know you're a traditional romantic and all – but sometimes, you can't help what the heart wants; love is love. That doesn't make it any less real if it's directed toward a man or woman." Shepard replied sagely before snaking back the datapad. "So, explain to me this technobabble." She mercifully changed the subject as Hawke contemplated Shepard's, surprisingly, serious advice.

"Uh, right," Hawke recomposed herself as she momentarily bit the bottom of her lip, "well, my uncle is hoping to create a better power source for the Alliance' ships." Hawke managed to collect some of her thoughts.

"So?" Shepard gestured a dubious glance at the datapad.

"What do you know about harnessing dark energy or mass effects?" Hawke asked with a growing passion and excitement; glad that they were finally talking about something in her comfort zone.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Fathar System/Lorek's Orbit/Normandy SR-2 – Engineering**

**01:18:23:47 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

The lulling hum of the Tantalus drive core echoed in Shepard's ears as she stood before it. Her eyes were closed as she silently listened to the Normandy's power source work. Thankfully, the room was further quiet as Engineers Daniels and Donnelly had retired from their post to garner some sleep. She liked the two engineers, but at the moment, she needed some peace and quiet and their known bickering would undoubtedly disrupt it. She needed to think. And she had always thought better near technology; it was familiar.

Here in this off-shoot room, the Commander was free to be herself. Unlike her quarters, the drive core room was free from spy bugs; the energy that the Tantalus core exhibited would shut off any radio frequencies and that meant Shepard had some privacy. It was a comforting reprieve from the world, even for a few minutes. She placed her hands against the railing that was before the drive core, relishing the feeling of being her true self. She was so glad that she had found this spot in her aimless wandering today.

The much needed break allowed Shepard to truly think about the Broker's threat toward her. She knew what the data contained and knew that it could not fall into unworthy hands. The consequences would be catastrophic. Shepard groaned in annoyance. Why did she ever think up what she did? Why did she think that no one would take advantage of making her inventions into weapons? _Damn them!_

She clenched her hands on the railings, her knuckles turning white as she did so. Shepard could not allow that data to be turned loose, but at the same time, she could not risk Miranda's safety. The woman would strangle her if she found out that she was even considering handing the data to the Broker just to protect her. What could she do? What was the right thing to do?

Logic obviously dictated that one life was nothing compared to the safety of more lives. However, who was she to judge the value of one life against another? This had always been a dilemma for her. Who was she to play God?

She scoffed, having realized the irony of her life. It seemed a lot of people that she had encountered had wanted to play God. She brought her right hand over to her face, staring at the burnt scars. "What a tangle web we weave…" She quoted from a play she once read as she thought about the night she received the scar and the fact that during her reconstruction, Miranda made sure that she had kept it. Shepard was no fool. With technology as it was, her scars could be erased, but Miranda (as she consistently pointed out) brought her back as the way she was before her death.

Shepard continued to stare at her hand. She'll have to ask Miranda about the Lazarus Project soon. Maybe ask for the whole file. She had been avoiding it in fear, but perhaps it's time to face those ghosts.

Shepard shook her head, ridding her thoughts from the Lazarus Project. She needed to stay focused against the Broker and then against the Collectors. So much was on her mind and there was so much to do. She still needed to recruit and figure out what the Collectors' next attack was going to be. She rubbed her head, feeling a headache coming on.

"Stop." She told herself, realizing that if she continued like this that she would overwhelm herself. She needed to tackle her problems one at a time. The most prominent problem was that of the Shadow Broker.

Shepard breathed in slowly – the scent of something akin to rust filled her; the scent of a mass effect field – as her mind went over her previous conversation with Miranda. It had surprised her how honest and sincere Miranda was, more so, when the operative had compared her to that of a hero. It was mind blowing as it was humbling. Miranda was not one to give out compliments freely, let alone ones filled with emotions. A small smile creased upon Shepard's lips. Despite all of Miranda's assurances to the contrary, that confusing woman really did care about their past relationship.

_I believe, that you'll do what's right._

Miranda's words echoed in Shepard's mind. It was ironic how the very woman she was trying to protect was granting her the advice she needed against the Shadow Broker.

Clicking noises sounded in Shepard's ears and the woman could not help the smirk that developed on her face. _Speak of the devil…_

"If I didn't know any better, Miranda, I would think you were stalking me." Shepard replied, not opening her eyes as she felt the presence of her XO stopping beside her. In an instant, the scent – which Shepard could only utterly describe as purely Miranda (lavender mixed with the morning breeze of summer) – assaulted her senses and Shepard could only tighten her hold on the railing to avoid the urge to grab ahold of the operative in a passionate embrace against the hull.

"Don't flatter yourself, Shepard." Miranda's noticeably tired, but amused voice filled Shepard's ears. "I'm merely here to ascertain the reason why you are ignoring EDI's hailings and why you're not asleep."

"Ah, so that's what that muffled sound was." Shepard mused, knowing perfectly well that she had heard EDI calling out to her when she was here. "Tell her and Joker that we'll head back to Omega for supplies before picking up Jack." She replied, knowing that the pilot of the Normandy was annoyed for orbiting Lorek for so long. She opened her eyes and sported a small smile at Miranda. "And why are you not asleep?" Shepard asked.

"I asked you first." Miranda retorted back good naturally.

"Couldn't sleep. You?" Shepard turned to gaze upon the pulsing drive core, admiring the blue hue that it produced.

"I was finishing some reports for the Illusive Man." She replied. "You couldn't sleep so you come to the drive core?"

"Mmm. It's comfortable here; peaceful." Shepard acknowledged as she watched the blue aura swirl about the large drive core.

The two stood together in comfortable silence before Shepard spoke once more. "It's amazing," Shepard began, "how far we've come."

"Shepard?" Miranda inquired, not catching on to Shepard's train of thought.

"All this." Shepard gestured to the drive core. "Nearly six centuries ago, humanity created the steam engine, and now," she turned to face Miranda, carefully leaning against the railing as she did so, "we're traveling in space." She allowed a small sound of amazement to escape her. "It just amazes me how far Humanity has come." She repeated.

"Yes, I see what you mean." Miranda appeared distant as she spoke.

Shepard eyed her carefully. She recognized that reminiscing look and the guilt that she had always been pushing down came back with vengeance. "Tell me, how you managed to increase the output of how much the core can generate without sacrificing the power to do so?" Shepard asked, trying to jar Miranda out of her thoughts.

"It was difficult, but I can't say that we didn't sacrifice the power. The Tantalus core is much large than the one the original Normandy had; as you can see. However, we found that if you shifted the core at a different angle, its production and stabilization increased exponentially." Miranda explained, keeping it as simple for Shepard.

"I hardly think by just changing the angle of the drive that you managed to increase its capacity by a good 60 percent." Shepard alluded. "What did you do? Manage to recycle the energy within itself? Added more power couplings? Or simply found better material that could harness the eezo?"

Miranda blinked in disbelief. Since when was Shepard a mass effect expert? "You were actually paying attention to Eliza, weren't you?" She heard herself blurt out.

Shepard looked startled for a moment before placing on an indifferent shrug. "Not as much as you, apparently; I can tell you had a hand in designing this core." She jerked her head toward said object. "You took the recycle route and added the couplings to ensure that it didn't backfire when it worked at optimal capacity, whereas most people would just add the couplings and just release the energy before it cooked us all alive."

"Impressive, Shepard." Miranda folded her arms and stared at Shepard in a new, curious light.

Shepard rubbed her arm, knowing that she should stop speaking, but finding herself unable as she had missed talking with Miranda like this. "Not as impressive as you, Miranda. You took the prototype and made it better; of course, after 19 years, I guess that is to be expected, especially when you manage to do it far better than I would have predicted and you bypassed the initial threat of making the core into an atom bomb." Shepard instantly frowned as she realized her words.

"You seem to know a great deal about mass effect fields, Shepard." Shepard knew that inconspicuous tone. It may sound completely innocent, but Miranda only used it when she was suspicious.

"Like you said, I was just paying attention to what Eli—er Hawke said." Shepard forced her body to stay still and calm, not wanting to alert Miranda's detective skills. "And…you know, the Alliance taught me some things too." She added, not liking how Miranda's eyes narrowed for a brief second.

"As you say, Commander." Miranda replied before turning her eyes away from Shepard as if deciding something.

Shepard eyed her profile carefully, knowing that Miranda was not one to let go of her suspicions so quickly. She was up to something.

"Good night, Shepard. I'll inform Mister Moreau of our destination." Miranda replied before slipping away.

Once she was alone, Shepard let out a sigh of relief. "That was close." She muttered.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega**

**01:14:59:13 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

"Commander, you have a private message." Kelly informed Shepard the moment she exited the elevator and entered the CIC.

"Thank you, Kelly." Shepard tried not to groan out as she stared into Kelly's cheery face. It was simply unnatural for someone to be so happy, especially if that person was a shrink. Disengaging her gaze from Kelly, Shepard turned to the terminal that was off to the side of the galaxy map. Shepard hated using it, but she also disliked running back and forth between decks for menial tasks even though she ran the risk of someone reading her email. She bit her lip, debating.

"What the hell." Shepard murmured as she went to open her extranet message; she was too tired to go to her quarters and she needed to speak with Mordin about some upgrades.

Shepard froze as she stared at the latest message and at the sender's name. _Admiral Hackett._ It appeared that Anderson informed him that she was alive and working with Cerberus. Hesitantly, she opened the message, unsure of what she would find. She was surprised at its contents:

_From: Admiral Hackett_

_Commander Shepard:_

_Our scans in the Amada system have turned up something we thought you should see: the final location of the wreckage of the SSV Normandy._

_We thought this news might be important to you, but we also have an ulterior motive. The Alliance would like to honor the Normandy with a monument, to be built on the site of the ship's final resting place. We'd like to invite you to place the monument and be the first to walk on the site. _

_Our sources have informed us that you are working in the Terminus System. We have sent a small team to Omega, along with the monument for you to retrieve and place on the site. They will be stationed in docking bay B12 until the end of the week. _

_There are still 20 crew members unaccounted for from the attack on the Normandy. If you find any signs of these lost crewman, we ask that you report to the Alliance so that those heroes' families might find some closure._

_Godspeed to you, Commander. _

They had found the Normandy. Shepard couldn't help the vivid flashbacks that were conjured. She took a deep breath, forcing the last moments she had with the SSV Normandy away.

"Commander?" Kelly's voice broke into Shepard's thoughts, causing the woman to snap her head up. "Sorry." Kelly apologized, "but, are you all right?" She tentatively asked.

"Yes." Shepard lied as she placed on an unreadable expression. "Is Jacob still on Omega?"

"Yes, Commander. He left to pick up some supplies and your tank replacement with some of the crew about an hour ago."

"Good. Tell him to meet me at docking bay B12 in half an hour." Shepard ordered.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Amada System/Alchera/Normandy SR-2 – Cockpit**

**01:10:15:55 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

"How long has she been down there?" Garrus quietly asked as he leaned against the cockpit's archway, staring out at the ice planet before them.

"Almost half an hour." Joker replied in an unusual subdued manner.

"I wish she didn't go down there alone." Garrus' mandibles twitched in a semi-frown.

"Yeah, well, can't really tell her that." Joker grumbled.

"It's not your fault." Garrus replied, his eyes never leaving the planet. "She doesn't blame you; we don't blame you."

Joker gave no initial response.

"She would gladly do it again." Garrus continued on.

"How would you know?" Joker shot out, his fingers gripping the armrests of his chair. "If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't have died; she wouldn't be working for Cerberus."

"She told me so." Garrus remained complacent as if Joker never shouted.

"What? Why didn't she tell me?" Joker asked, bewildered on why Shepard would let him stew on this guilt.

"You never asked and well, she thought you were mad at her." Garrus revealed.

"What? Why would _I_ be mad at her?"

"She accepted the mission; she thinks she placed the crew in danger in the first place."

"_That_ is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You might as well blame the dinosaurs for going extinct and allowing humans to exist cause then Shepard wouldn't be born and we wouldn't be in this crockpot!" Joker ranted.

"You know Shepard. She always takes things to heart. I already told her that it wasn't anyone's fault but the Collectors." Garrus assured.

"Good. Cause those sons of bitches are going to get it."

"Damn right." Garrus concurred.

The two males continued to stare out into space before Garrus spoke once more.

"What's a dinosaur?"

Joker's laughter didn't die down until ten minutes later.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Amada System/Alchera/SSV Normandy Crash Site**

**01:10:15:55 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

Shepard stood in the remains of what use to be the Captain's quarters of the Normandy SR-1. The snow filtered down upon her as she stared at the steel box before her feet. Equipped in her N7 hardsuit (helmet included), Shepard knelt down on one knee to examine the box further. Her padded gloves scrapped the pile of snow and ice that had encased the steel box. Gingerly, she pried it out with a crack as the ice upon it shattered away.

It amazed Shepard that her old box had survived. She surveyed it carefully, noting the minimal damage it had undergone. She noticed something hard was poking out of the box's edge and carefully extracted it.

An encased photograph stared back at her. She scoffed in disbelief. She had thought this photo was destroyed in the crash, but it appeared intact behind its frame. A ghost of smile appeared on her lips as she gazed upon the teenaged image of her two best friends. She continued to stare until another chilly wind – though she could not feel it through her suit – brushed passed.

Carefully, she placed the photo back into the steel box. Placing it in a pack she had brought, the box hit the bottom of the bag with a clang as it shook against the dog tags and her old N7 helmet she had found throughout the crash site.

Memories, good and bad, echoed within her thoughts. For nearly a year, this ship was her home and the crew her family. And it was taken away from her, like every other family she had ever had.

"_Promise me, promise you'll get back at these bastards for doing this. You make them pay for harming your family. You got that?" The young woman in her arms hackled up blood as she convulsed. _

"_Hush, save your energy." She remembered saying, but everything was already beginning to blur as the tears streamed down her face. The woman in her arms was barely recognizable under all that burnt skin. _

"_No, you got to promise me. You find her and you make them pay for—" she stopped to cough up blood once more. "Make them pay. Bring them to Justice. Don't let them get away…"_

"_I can't…I don't think I can do that…I'm not strong like you…you can't leave." She sobbed hard, realizing her best friend wasn't going to survive. _

"_You are. You are so much stronger than I am…so much better. You can do it. You…were always special…you got the best heart – don't forget what you're fighting for. You'll be fine."_

A strong icy breeze shook Shepard out of her memory with a sob. The Commander gasped in the artificial air from her suit, trying to figure out why, in this moment _that_ memory had to surface.

"I'm not fine!" Shepard cried out into the nothingness. "I'm tired of this! I can't do this!"

She collapsed to the ground, her pack falling with a loud thud as it hit the snowy ground. A cry of anguish escaped Shepard's lips as she mourned the 20 lost souls of the Normandy, as she mourned Ashley's death, her unit from Akuze, the friends from Elysium, her parents, but most of all, she mourned the best friend that had sacrificed her life so that she may live. Overrun by her emotions and circumstances, Shepard cried as she felt herself being torn in multiple directions.

"Everything is my fault…I thought I was doing the right thing…I'm so sorry." She murmured as she recalled all her actions that had caused the lives of many. "Who am I to play God?" She whimpered. "Who am I?" She asked herself. "All the things that I've done..." Her mind flashed to the Broker and all of her dealings with him. And now, she was once again trapped in his game. She was once again, doubting her mission; her decisions; her life.

_Remember these words when doubt descends, Commander…Never underestimate the power of words._

A soft voice pierced itself through all of Shepard's doubts and fears. Her mind instantly recalled Sha'ira, the asari she had helped during her mission against Saren. In return for her help, the asari had offered advice; advice that she had not thought about until now.

_I offer a gift of words; an affirmation of who you are and who you will become. _

_I see the sadness behind your eyes. It tells a story that makes me want to weep. Pain and loss but it drives you – makes you strong. You never hide your strength either – it serves you well; terrifies your foes. Few will dare to stand against you._

_This may be who you are but it is not who you will become. It only forms the baseness of your future greatness. _

_Remember these words when doubt descends…_

Shepard slowly regained herself as she dissected Sha'ira's words. Her past was her strength, her motivation for years…but now she realized that she could not only rely on that anymore. It was only a base for who she was. Shepard needed more now. She needed...

_Find me._

Miranda's youthful voice penetrated the fog that had seeped into her mind.

_You are so much stronger than I am…so much better. You can do it. You…were always special…you got the best heart – don't forget what you're fighting for. You'll be fine. _

Her best friend's voice repeated once more.

Shepard sniffled in amusement. She had forgotten what she was fighting for. _Who _she was fighting for. She had been so caught up in the past and the lies; in the distractions of the world that she forgot the real reason of _why_ she was searching for Miranda. She was fighting for a future.

_Italy. I want to go to Italy._

She remembered now.

_I believe, that you'll do what's right._

Shepard inhaled again as she remembered who she was.

_When you are ready, I'll be here._

Gripping her bag, she returned to the shuttle where she had loaded the Normandy's monument. Calling forth her biotics, Shepard carefully maneuvered the monument before the remains of the Normandy's hull. It was strenuous, as Shepard was unused to lifting such heavy objects, but at last she managed to place it in the designated spot. She stood before it, a silent promise to those that had sacrificed their lives that she would remember and that she would ensure their sacrifices were not in vain.

"I promise. I'll do what's right and I'll make those sons of bitches pay." She vowed, knowing that she never made a promise that she didn't keep – no matter how long it took her.

**Location: Omega Nebula/Sahrabarik System/Omega**

**01:06:17:23 until Shadow Broker Deadline**

Shepard's eyes scanned the Omega market for her target. She knew he would be here; he was always here. She had worked with him before when she was younger. He was a sketchy bugger, but he always operated in Omega. Green orbs surveyed the crowd until they latched themselves onto a grey colored salarian. _There you are. _

Pushing passed the crowd, Shepard made her way to the salarian that was trying to swindle a batarian into purchasing a used omni-tool.

"Great quality and guaranteed to leave no traces." The salarian assured before widening his eyes at the oncoming Spectre. "I take that back; this isn't the right model, I think I have a better one back at my ship, why don't I—ack!" The salarian choked out as Shepard gripped his throat and dragged him against a wall, startling the batarian.

"Get lost." Shepard growled out to the batarian before turning her attention to Ish.

"Sheparrddd!" Ish struggled out as his neck was clamped on. "Sooo niccceee tooo seeeee youuu! Whhhattt cann I helllppp youuu withhh?" He wheezed. Shepard took some pity and loosened her hold.

"Tell your boss that I said 'No', and tell him, that if he dares strike against my friends, that I am coming straight for him. You got that?" Shepard growled out.

"Yupppp!" Ish squeaked out.

"Good." She released her hold on Ish, allowing him to slump down against the wall before disappearing into the Omega crowd.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Whoa! This was definitely one of the hardest chapters to write for me, which is why it took me forever to upload. I seriously went through 8 drafts trying to figure out the best way to write this. I'm still a little iffy about it, especially since it went in a totally different direction than I had first envisioned it, but go where your muse takes you right? Anyways, I apologize if its a bit chaotic - I was trying to do that, as Shepard's actually feeling so many emotions at once; she's only human after all - she has faults and weaknesses. That was one thing about the game that I wished they expounded more on: How Shepard feels and what keeps her/him going, you know? There is only so much a person can take before they blow up, especially one that holds so much responsibility (hence my Shepard's breakdown - even though there are other factors that are pulling at her). ****For now, she's a bit stabilized and refocused, but who knows as the story continues on and we have yet to see what the Shadow Broker's reaction is, and more importantly, that of Miranda. Hehe...**

**I promise the next chapter will hold more action - bear with me! **

**As always, I would appreciate your reactions, thoughts, concerns, and even any ideas you may have to improve my story, writing, portrayal, and delivery. **

**Thank you all for reading, following, and favoriting, and especially reviewing. **

**Until next time! :)**


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